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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25859005">Just One Yesterday</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itrustyoutokillme/pseuds/artistic-writer'>artistic-writer (Itrustyoutokillme)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Once Upon a Time (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, CS AU, F/M, Hurt, SVU AU, Sort Of, tw: sexual assault in later chapters</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 06:56:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>23,275</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25859005</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itrustyoutokillme/pseuds/artistic-writer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Killian has always been in love with his best friend, Emma, but due to a childhood lost to crime, her brother and cop, David, is more than hateful towards him.  When Emma turns up at his door and they share a night of passion, what follows, and the consequences, will test their love to the limit.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Emma Swan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>84</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>No one asked for this fic but I wanted to write it, so if you read it, thank you!  If you don't, that's cool too.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p>
<p>Once upon a time, she had told him that she loved him.  She was drunk, and Killian had not taken her words to heart.  They were new friends then, with nothing in common but the course they were both enrolled in at university.  As the years passed, they discovered they had more in common than each knew.  They had both lost family, hearts blackened by their loss, they were both reluctant to trust anyone.  But somehow, they had both decided that the other was worth something.  Worth the trust.</p>
<p>And they both liked rum.  Killian had discovered that whilst engaging in a drinking game, which he had lost.  Emma could drink him under any table, and he loved to watch her slowly succumb to her inebriation, her smile growing wider and her lips looser.  Drunk Emma was something he loved because, without a doubt, drunk Emma would always say the words he longed to hear.</p>
<p>
  <em>“I love you, Killian Jones.”</em>
</p>
<p>Of course, sober Emma would never say what was in her heart.  He knew that.  He had given her many opportunities, but like a wild animal frozen in headlights, she had simply decided that to stay silent was best.  She was a puzzle, an uncrackable code that he yearned to find the solution to, but Emma Nolan was one of the world’s toughest.  She was more fragile than she knew, but her walls had kept her safe, and even around him, she was reluctant to let them fall.</p>
<p>Maybe she was scared, or maybe she was not, but either way, Killian knew that she was never going to say the words out loud when she was sober, so he had decided that at every opportunity, he would be there whilst she was drunk to hear the words he wanted.  Sometimes, without an excuse, he would turn up at her apartment with a bottle of rum in one hand and two glasses in the other.  She never turned him away and he would always get what he wanted.</p>
<p>Maybe he was selfish, maybe he wasn’t, but it worked for them.  They had drawn an invisible line right through the middle of their relationship - or lack thereof - and instead of being bold and crossing it, they danced around it.  He didn’t want to scare her away, and she seemed content to keep him at arm's length.  That was, until the day she showed up at his apartment door in the middle of the night, a bottle of their favourite rum in one hand and two glasses in the other.</p>
<p>“Emma?” He asked confused, brow knitting together and his hand gripping the doorknob even tighter than he should have.  She had never come to him before and her sudden appearance made him nervously excited.</p>
<p>“Hi,” she whispered sweetly, a blush creeping over her cheeks.  “I’m sorry for-”</p>
<p>“No, no, it’s okay, I was just-” Killian began, stumbling over his own words.  He took her in, hungry eyes roaming over her entire body, perfectly curved and plump in all the right places, enticingly accented under her oversized t-shirt.  It was his t-shirt, one he had given her a few months ago after she had fallen asleep at his place after their movie night, and it seemed to be all she was wearing.  Killian’s throat dried up and he blinked, attempting to chase away the arousal stirring in his loins.  “Is everything okay?”</p>
<p>“No,” Emma said softly, averting her gaze to the floor.  Killian noticed the tips of her ears were pink, almost red under her blush, something he knew she only really had when she was drunk.  On closer inspection, he noticed the glass bottle in her grasp was half empty.</p>
<p>“Emma, are you drunk?”  Killian teased, relaxing his half-naked body into the doorframe.  </p>
<p>Shirtless, he was in just lounge pants that hung low on his hips, the soft line of hair trailing up to his belly button catching her attention as the muscles underneath flexed with his movement.  Emma might have whimpered, her bottom lip rolling under her teeth as she stared at his torso.  She couldn’t control her own emotions whilst under the influence, and his throaty chuckle at her antics caught her attention, drawing her eyes back to his again.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry, what?” she said in a daze, giving him a cheeky grin.  “I was distracted.”</p>
<p>“So it seems.” Killian nodded in agreement, stepping aside.  “You want to come inside?”</p>
<p>“Excellent idea.” Emma smiled, pushing her bulk through the doorway.  She stumbled a little, her feet unsteady and she fell against his chest with an exaggerated sigh.  Killian grabbed her quickly, holding her to him without a second thought, his bare arms wrapping around her body like they were meant to be there.</p>
<p>There was a pause in time, when Emma looked up to him and he saw her gulp hard, the hammering of her heart pounding against his chest in time with his own.  He could kiss her, or she could kiss him, they were that close, her breath fogging against the jut of his collarbone as she buried her face in his skin and let him hold her.  Killian swallowed, her scent invading his senses, the aloe and honey shower gel she had clearly recently used still consuming her entire being.</p>
<p>“Easy there, love,” Killian rasped, his voice catching in his throat.  “How much have you had?”</p>
<p>Emma laughed, giggling in his arms as he pulled them over the threshold and closed the door behind them.  Emma only lived in the building opposite his, and he didn’t really need an answer to her question.  He had eyes.  The bottle was half empty and she was only half-dressed, the soft globes of her behind peeking out from under the hem of his shirt.  A tingle in Killian’s stomach made him move away from her, taking the bottle and glasses before she had time to drop them in her stupor.</p>
<p>“I’m celebrating!” Emma exclaimed, twisting out of his embrace and twirling around in his lounge.</p>
<p>“Without pants?” Killian quipped, raising an eyebrow at her as he set the bottle down on the counter on his kitchenette.</p>
<p>Emma stopped her spin, hair in a tangled mess of golden locks as she huffed.  She looked down at herself, setting her feet heavily on the hardwood floor of his apartment to stop herself toppling over.  “Huh,” she grunted.  “I forgot my pants!”</p>
<p>Her laughter filled the room and it made Killian smile.  She was happy, and he loved it, almost as much as he loved to hear her say those words.  But he knew she was nowhere near as drunk yet for that, and so, without a second thought, he poured them two more glasses of the caramel coloured spirit.  He made his way to her, offering her the glass with a smirk.</p>
<p>“In your excitement, no doubt,” he teased lightly.  “What are we celebrating, love?”</p>
<p>Emma took the glass from him, her laughter fading a little as she tried to recover some decorum.  Her eyes were a little glazed over, he could see that even in the dim lighting of the room, but they still shone with the light he loved to see.  She let her head fall back, eyes pinched closed as if she was trying to remember something, and let out a long humming sound that made him chuckle again.</p>
<p>“You don’t remember?” he prodded, lifting his glass to his lips and taking a sip of the rum.  It was warm as it slid down his throat, the smack of his lips drawing her attention back to him.</p>
<p>Emma gave him a half-hearted glare, no malice behind her eyes at all before they left his and roamed over his torso once again.  Emma took a sip of her rum, trying to hide her salacious smile behind the rim of the glass, but she couldn’t hide the second hum of appreciation that escaped her lips.</p>
<p>“I made a big sale,” she told him finally.  “Big bucks.”</p>
<p>“Well done,” Killian said sincerely.  He lifted his glass, tipping it a little towards her, before emptying it of the burning liquid.  “That is cause for celebration,” he said and made his way back to the kitchenette to pour himself another glass.  </p>
<p>“It’s a party!” Emma chimed and he turned to her, glass refilled.  “A no pants party!”  She laughed, almost spilling her drink doubling over.</p>
<p>Killian lifted an eyebrow at her, making his way towards her once again.  He downed his drink quickly, reaching out to take hers from her hand before it had time to spill.  Emma pouted, her lip turning out in a child-like sulk and she reached for the glass in his hand, her body flattening to his again.  Killian tried to ignore the way she was half-naked and rubbing herself over his entire body, the delicious friction of their scuffle causing her nipples to harden under her shirt and jut out towards him.</p>
<p>“Love,” he tried, his hand finding her hip to steady her.  “Maybe you’ve had enough.”</p>
<p>“Maybe you haven’t,” Emma said firmly, sinking back down onto her feet from her tiptoes and crossing her arms over her chest.  “You are wearing pants to a no pants party after all.”  Her face erupted in a wicked smirk that made his chest tighten as she stole his breath.  </p>
<p>“You do realise that you have walked across a street without pants on, right?” Killian laughed, motioning to her bare legs.  </p>
<p>“So?” Emma shrugged playfully, arching her body even more into the hard planes of his bare chest.</p>
<p>Killian laughed, pushing her away from him with a gentle nudge.  He craned his neck to look around her body, twisting his lips in a wry smile.  “I can see your arse, love,” Killian told her with a raised eyebrow.</p>
<p>“You like?” Emma teased, grabbing his hand and stepping closer again, placing his hand on her upper thigh and dragging his fingers over her skin.  She felt him gasp and revelled in the way his eyes closed tightly, his internal conflict evident on his face.</p>
<p>“You’re drunk,” Killian told her through gritted teeth.  “You won’t remember this in the morning.”  Her skin felt like a combination of ice and fire under his fingertips, setting his entire body ablaze from head to toe, the prickle of heat creeping up his back and his skin pulling tight.</p>
<p>“Maybe you should give me something to remember,” Emma purred, her voice slurred by the alcohol clearly in the driver’s seat of her bodily actions.</p>
<p>Killian was taken aback by her words, his throat constricting with dryness and his hand frozen in place on her skin.  Hers had moved by now, fingers threading through the coarse hair on his chest and teasing his nipples to attention, her face lighting up at his helplessness at her touch.</p>
<p>“I know you want to,” she cooed, raking her nails over his skin.  “Tell me I’m wrong.”</p>
<p>“Emma,” Killian warned weakly, shaking his head a little.  “You don’t know what you-”</p>
<p>“I know exactly what I want, Killian,” Emma told him with more assertiveness than she had displayed all night.  Killian locked eyes with her, the dark green pools drawing him in like a siren, drowning him with her need.</p>
<p>“There’s a line,” Killian stuttered, willing his body to move from hers but unable to do so.</p>
<p>“Fuck the line,” Emma laughed, her hand finding the straining cords of his neck.  She traced a finger along the length of it, gleefully watching the pain on his face as she felt him harden in his pants.  She felt him grip her thigh, fingertips diggings into her flesh as she pressed her body to his, his breath catching in his throat at the warmth of her body against his.  Her lips were barely a hair's breadth from his, a coy smile tugging at her lips as she traced the apple of his cheek with her fingertip. “Or you could just fuck me?”</p>
<p>“Jesus Christ,” Killian whimpered helplessly.  He was gripping the glass in his hand so hard that he thought he might crush it at any second.  He was starting to sweat, one glass of rum not enough for this when Emma had clearly consumed much more than half the bottle missing from the one she had arrived with.  </p>
<p>“He can’t help you now,” Emma whispered, reaching for the glass in his hand and plucking it from his grasp.  He watched her, fascinated by her every movement, the lust in her eyes pulling him towards the line he said he would never cross.  The line was there, but blurring before his very eyes, his body reacting to Emma’s touch and leaving him unable to fight.  The thud of the glass on his coffee table shook him back to reality and he blinked hard, stepping away from her despite his body’s protests.</p>
<p>Turning away from her was one of the hardest things Killian had ever done.  His skin felt like it was burning away, dripping from his bones and leaving him with nothing but the desire surging through his veins.  Emma had been in his heart for years, invaded his every dream and left him with more than one uncomfortable morning, and here she was, throwing herself at him and testing him with her gentle caresses.</p>
<p>All he could do was look away, covering his face with his hands and sighing into his palms, his balls fisting immediately with his frustration.  There was nothing that would change the way he felt about her, nothing in a million years, but he would absolutely not take advantage of her in this state.  Not even when she skimmed her hands over his shoulders, sending a shiver down his spine and made him wish he wasn’t so weak as to fall.</p>
<p>“I love you, Killian Jones,” she whispered against the skin of his back, pressing her lips to his spine.  She kissed him again, lips like lava on his skin, searing the shape of her mouth into his shoulder blades.  Emma’s hand trailed over his arms, her lips following her touches across his back, the hair along his forearms prickling under her fingers.</p>
<p>“Emma-” Killian began helplessly, a lump forming in his throat that he couldn’t shift with the most painful of gulps.</p>
<p>“I love you, Killian,” Emma repeated slowly, shifting her position around his body as she kissed it, the hairs on his chest tickling at her nose.  “I’ve loved you all this time,” Emma purred, flattening her palms to his chest and nuzzling the scruff on the underside of his jaw.  She felt him sigh into her hair, the back of her neck turning hot with the sensation.  </p>
<p>Killian’s chest heaved, his lungs not filling quick enough to feed the pounding of his heart.  He knew she was drunk, and she often declared her love when she was, but this felt different.  This felt like Emma was finally opening up, letting down her walls and inviting him into her heart.  It felt real.</p>
<p>“Say something,” Emma whispered when he didn't respond.  Her hands found his face, turning it to hers and she felt all of his tension leave him instantly.</p>
<p>“What do you want me to say?” Killian gulped, his eyes finally opening and finding hers once again.  Emma’s lips twitched into a smile, genuine and calm.</p>
<p>“Say what’s in your heart.”  Her words were soothing, like a balm on every part of his body that she had touched and charred with the flame of her drunken desire.  She wanted to hear him say it, he knew that, and he had never imagined it would be this hard to tell the woman he loved how he felt, especially as she had said it first.  It had knocked him for six, unsettled him right off the perch, and he was stuck, staring down at her dumbly and lost to the beauty of her smile.</p>
<p>“I don’t want this to be a dream,” Killian breathed, swallowing hard.  “I want to wake up in your arms, to kiss your sunbathed skin as the morning breaks and sunlight spills through my window.  I want my future to be filled with love, and laughter and I want all of this with you, Emma.”  Killian paused, lifting a hand to cradle her face in his hand, his thumb brushing over the apple of her cheek and the corner of her pink lips.  “I want you, Emma Nolan.  I always have.”</p>
<p>Emma smiled at him, and this time it wasn’t tainted by booze.  It was just her smile, lips turning into a sweet curve that she did when she was happy, or content, like she was right now.  “I’m right here,” she breathed.  Her eyes flicked between his and his lips, hanging slightly agape with his absolute shock at what he had just revealed.  “I’ve always been right here.”</p>
<p>Killian ground his jaw, one last attempt at resisting the woman who had haunted his dreams for his entire adult life.  Many of his dreams had started this way, the damsel in distress, coming to him with her big, doe eyes and perfectly kissable lips that felt so soft under his.  He lifted his hand, taking a huge breath to steady the shake that had developed in his limbs, running his fingers through his hair and letting his eyes fall closed as he exhaled.  The conflict within him was more intense than in his dreams, rational thoughts overriding his want.</p>
<p>“Do you know how long I’ve waited to hear you say those words?” Killian sighed, tilting his head forward to meet her gaze again, trying to ignore the way her fingertips drew lazy circles over the skin on his forearms.  Her touch was electrifying, the smallest thing having such an impact on his body.</p>
<p>“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to say them?” Emma said softly.  She swallowed, the taste of alcohol coating her tongue and slipping almost ignored down her throat.  “I’ve been scared, Killian, you know me,” she laughed, shaking her hair from her face with a quick flick of her head.</p>
<p>“Why now?” He frowned, narrowing his eyes at her and Emma met his gaze with a smirk.  She sucked in a breath, bubbling the breath out over her lips as she thumbed over her shoulder to the depleted bottle of rum behind them.</p>
<p>“Rum makes me chatty,” Emma slurred through her laughter, shaking her head to focus her thoughts.  She screwed her face up a little, the room spinning when she tried to blink her vision clear, the sound of Killian’s nervous laughter filling the space between them.</p>
<p>It was a small gap, having narrowed without either of them really realising, and Emma moved her hand to his chest.  Her fingers splayed out over the skin, flattening her palm as she watched her fingers intently scratching through the layer of dark hairs there.  She felt his gasp, a small intake of air that had his heart taking off in his chest, heartbeat thumping against her fingertips as his body responded to her touch.  It gave Emma a sense of womanly pride, knowing how she affected him with such little contact, but she wasn’t sure she would be content with just leaving and knowing he felt the same as she did.</p>
<p>That’s not why she had come here.</p>
<p>“Killian?” Emma purred sweetly, her voice innocent and eyes still fixed on her hand that kneaded against the skin of his pectoral muscle.  </p>
<p>“Hmm?” He hummed in response, a hazy sound that cracked a little in the middle from how dry his throat was.</p>
<p>“I know you think I am drunk, and you are too much of a gentleman to ‘take advantage’,” she scoffed playfully, lifting her head to meet his boyish smile.  “So, I’m going to kiss you now,” she said firmly, her smile fading into a serious expression that she was sure, based on his sudden stillness, petrified him.</p>
<p>“Alright,” Killian croaked, cheeks flushing with pink.</p>
<p>“And you are going to kiss me back like you mean it.”  Her eyes searched his, the outer rim of blue that she had previously found so inviting turning into a darkened grey, his pupils blown wide with desire.  His mouth was closed now, the muscles along his jawline twitching under her fingertips as Emma stroked his face, her tongue darting out to moisten her lips as her hand found the back of his head and pulled his lips down to hers.</p>
<p>When their mouths met, it was like an explosion of years of pent up energy rushing them both at the same time, overwhelming each of their bodies to the point of paralyzing them.  Neither could move, stuck in an awkward liplock that had them both unsure of what to do, their lips touching but not moving, mouths closed as tightly as their eyes.  Emma’s hand dropped to his hip, skimming the edge of his lounge pants and she felt him pull away, staggering back and tearing his lips from hers.</p>
<p>“What’s wrong?” Emma asked gently, hand caught in mid-air where he had previously been.  His skin was warm, like the tepid waters of the ocean lapping at her skin in some far off land, and she missed the contact immediately.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry,” Killian gasped, scratching his brow and hunching over in a position that looked more awkward than practical.  “Emma, I’m sorry,” he ground out through clenched teeth, his annoyance grating on his every nerve.  “You’re drunk and-”</p>
<p>The sound of Emma’s frustrated sigh cut his words off and he watched her move to retrieve the bottle of rum she had bought with her.  There wasn’t much left, but she strode towards him with the glass bottle clutched in her hand and held it out for him, shaking the bottle a little to emphasize her offering.  She was giving him an out, a way for him to feel more at ease, and with a tentative movement, he reached for it.</p>
<p>“For your conscience,” Emma grinned, letting him take the bottle.</p>
<p>Killian eyed the bottle in his hands, the weight of the glass somewhat less than before but no less a metaphor for his conflicted heart.  It was heavy despite its emptiness, the warmth it offered inside just out of reach until he opened it up and the smell of spice as unforgettable as Emma’s lips on his hit him.  He cast a glance towards the woman in front of him, her hands fumbling with the front edge of his t-shirt she was wearing and her teeth biting into her bottom lip playfully.  He inched the bottle towards his lips and her face erupted in a gleeful smirk, her toes curling into the hardness of his floor at the slight action, and he paused, letting her focus on him one more time.</p>
<p>“If this is a dream, you’ll be gone when I wake anyway,” Killian said slowly, taking a gulp of the acrid rum and grimacing as he swallowed the burning liquid.  He took a gulp of air, panting for a breath he needed to still his nerves and threw his head back to finish the entire bottle.  When he righted himself again it’s effects were almost instant, the proof of the rum much more than he was used to, and he felt a numbness creep over his entire body.</p>
<p>Emma was there, directly in front of him to relieve him of the now empty bottle and toss it aside.  It hit the couch with a silent thump, the hollow echo sound going unnoticed because when she was done, she crossed her arms over her body and lifted the shirt clean off her body.  Killian had seen Emma in her underwear before, the images burnt into his mind forever as a painful reminder of what he would never have, only now she seemed different.  She was more lithe, each curve of her body accented by the black lingerie as it hugged her breasts and helped push them up to his hungry gaze.</p>
<p>Killian couldn’t help but gulp hard again, the taste of rum lingering in his mouth as he began to salivate uncontrollably, his eyes roaming over the soft swell of her breasts, the flat, lightly toned definition of her abdomen and the smooth, paleness of her legs.  Her panties matched her bra and Killian wondered for a second if she had planned this whole scenario, his eyes burning in their sockets as he fought the urge to blink, just to take her in a while longer.</p>
<p>“Do I look like this in your dreams?” Emma cooed, stepping towards him and watching him sway a little at her advances.  </p>
<p>Killian blinked rapidly, the fog of drunkenness clouding his judgement just enough that he reached out for her like the million times he had before and she smiled, smoothing her hands over his shoulders and stepping into his embrace.  She felt just like she always had, skin soft and warm, the hairs along her arms prickling to attention under his touch, and just like every reverie he had before, she was his.</p>
<p>Emma turned in his arms, the firmness of him pressing into her back, strong arms wrapping around her from behind and holding her still.  She squirmed a little, feeling his breath leave him in an almost frustrated growl, face nuzzling into the dip of her collarbone, his scruff irritating the skin there as he nudged her hair aside with his face.</p>
<p>“You smell so good, love,” he purred against the skin on her neck, his spine tingling and his nostrils filling with the smell of her body wash.  It still lingered on her skin but its smell just reminded Killian of a thousand fantasies he had of her showering, soft hands skimming over her own body as she whimpered his name into the hot, steaming spray.</p>
<p>“I want to fuck you, Killian, like I know we both want.”  Emma’s voice was insistent, her breath short and coming in pants as her brain became muddled with stimulation.  Killian’s hands were on her, all over her, tracing the outlines of her body like he had memorized them somehow, fingertips teasing with feather-light touches whilst his lips sucked on her earlobe and the spin of the room kept her in a state of euphoric confusion.</p>
<p>Addled by the rum, now fully coursing through his bloodstream thanks to his increased heart rate, Killian couldn’t stop his body as he ground his erection into the crease of her behind.  Emma gasped, turning her head to plant a kiss to the curve of his shoulder and she physically shivered when Killian’s hand grasped the strap of her bra and pulled it down.  His fingernails scraped her skin and she yelped, a small sound from the back of her throat that had him even harder in seconds.</p>
<p>“I’m dreaming,” Killian muttered against her neck, sucking on her pulse point there, hands sliding into the lacy confines of her bra and cupping her breasts.  Emma arched her back against his body, pushing them into his touch and allowing herself a second to reach up behind herself and undo the clasp.  The material gave away under the assault of his hands, falling forward and sliding off her arms, her nipples already hard as Killian kneaded even more roughly with a growl.  “Gods, tell me I’m not dreaming,” he pleaded, moving his face so it was pressed against her ear, lips skimming the shell of it and sending a jolt of need straight to her core.</p>
<p>“What does it matter if you are?” Emma purred.  She reached behind herself and pushed at his waistband, inching the material of his lounge pants down until it reached his thighs and fell to his ankles under its own weight.  </p>
<p>He groaned, stepping out of his pants as he made his way back towards the couch.  Emma followed obediently, careful not to trip on the discarded clothes at their feet, Killian’s hot, hard length rubbing her behind on every step.  When he reached the couch he stumbled, his whole weight toppling him over until he landed on his arse with an oomph.  He immediately reached out for her, stopping her from falling on him with two big, powerful hands to her hips.</p>
<p>Emma sighed, tilting her head back until her hair tickled at the curve of her behind, interrupted temporarily when Killian pressed his lips to the base of her spine and kissed her.  His hands kneaded the flesh on her hips, his tongue darting out to taste her skin before kissing away the wetness with more tender pecks of his lips.  Emma felt her skin itch, the heat pooling between her thighs, and the ache in her engorged clit was becoming unbearable.</p>
<p>“Touch me,” she whispered, her breath catching in her throat when Killian nipped the flesh below her ribs.  She reached for his hand on her hip, dragging it across the front of her panties and planting it firmly between her legs, her thighs clenching around his hand and a sigh of relief escaping her mouth.</p>
<p>“Oh, I intend to,” Killian rasped, slipping his hand from where she had placed it so eagerly.  She whined at the loss, but was soon grinning in anticipation when Killian began dragging her underwear down to reveal her to him fully naked.</p>
<p>For a second he was taken back, the air leaving his lungs as he took her in.  She was marvellous, like a wonder of nature that had not changed in his eyes for all the years he had known her.  She was precious, kind, undoubtedly sexy and even if he was dreaming, he wasn’t going to squander a night with her.  Killian’s erection bobbed against his stomach, the painfully hard length pounding with each beat of his heart, and he prayed he could last just one second longer than Emma could, just so that he could see her fall.</p>
<p>Before he had time to attack her skin with his lips again, Emma was shuffling back towards him until he had no choice but to sit back in the luxurious cushions.  He kept his hands on her hips, pulling her to him as he did, enjoying the way she squeaked in delight when she fell onto his lap.  They were like a well-oiled machine, so in sync with each other's thoughts that it took them all of three seconds to get into a position where Emma was laying back on Killian’s chest and his hands were on her breasts once more.</p>
<p>“I’m going to touch you here,” Killian growled, kneading the mounds in his hands, fingertips pulling at Emma’s nipples.  </p>
<p>She arched into his hands, her hands gripping his thighs like a vice.  She writhed on him, buttocks teasing his erection and shoulders pressed firmly into his chest, her skin on fire from how he was touching her.  Killian’s hands skimmed over her body, down across her ribs, intimate touches that felt like a faint breeze over her blazing hot skin.  </p>
<p>“Here,” Killian whispered into the skin behind her ear, his face pressed there as he nuzzled the spot of tender flesh.  His lips twitched into a smile when she gasped, his hands sliding down onto her legs, teasing her inner thigh with the promise of more.</p>
<p>“Stop,” Emma whined.  She turned her head to face him, shaking it with a groan.  “Please, just-”</p>
<p>“And here,” Killian purred darkly, his hands finally tracing the outline of her sex, collecting her arousal that had already made its way to the edges of her outer lips.  Emma sobbed at his touch, rolling her hips into his hand, desperate for his fingers where she needed him the most.  </p>
<p>Killian took pity on her then, his arousal trapped painfully under her body.  He reached down with one hand, took hold of cock and began rubbing at her slick folds, letting Emma build up friction against his length.  It was torture, for them both, and Emma whimpered incoherently, her hot breath fogging the side of his stubbly cheek as he hissed through his teeth.  Killian thrust his hips, gliding over her opening and teasing her some more, turning his face to her until their lips met.</p>
<p>“Killian, please,” Emma begged again.  “I can’t take it anymore.”</p>
<p>Killian kissed her again, heeding her plea and moving to circle her clit under two fingers.  He dipped his hand down between her legs, collecting some of her essences and used it to coat her nub, smoothing his fingers over the sensitive bundle of nerves.  Emma froze, shivering under his touch, her jaw hanging open and making her kisses sloppier than before.  They were lost, almost as soon as they had begun, the only sound between them the soft panting and moans of pleasure that filled the room.</p>
<p>Killian slipped his fingers between her folds, finally dipping his fingertips into the heat of her core.  She was wet, so very wet, and the sounds she made as he pumped his fingers into her made him dizzy with pleasure.  Blood surged to his erection and the tip of it oozed with his precum, smearing across her inner thigh.  The heel of his palm pressed against her clit, rubbing the bud as he stroked her inner walls, coaxing her pleasure from her second by second, dragging her higher and higher until she shook on top of him.</p>
<p>“Oh fuck,” she breathed, fingernails digging into his thigh.  Killian kissed her again, gobbling up her moans, biting her bottom lip as she rode his fingers.  “There,” she gasped into his mouth, her hand flying to cup the side of his face.</p>
<p>“There?” Killian whispered, increasing his pace.  His fingers slipped into her, over and over, rubbing the ribbed surface of her g-spot as she nodded in response, the only thing she could do.</p>
<p>“There,” she whimpered, quaking in his arms.  </p>
<p>“Come for me, love.  I want to feel you come in my arms.”  Killian’s words in her ear were enough to send her careening over the edge she had been balanced on.  Her orgasm hit her, the soft pulsing in her core gripping at his fingers that were coated in her arousal from tip to palm.  Killian carried on, letting her ride his fingers into abandon, grabbing her face with his free hand and watching her tumble over into ecstasy.  </p>
<p>Emma slowed, head pounding from alcohol inebriation and release, her body twitching a few more times before she stilled in his lap.  Like a cat she stretched, thighs gripping his hand as he tried to withdraw his fingers, a coy smirk plastered upon her pretty pink lips.  She was covered in a sheen of sweat, every nerve ending in her body twitching and Killian hadn’t even begun yet.</p>
<p>Emma reached down to stroke his length, not even giving him a second to register what was happening before she lifted her hips and teased her entrance with his tip.  Killian grunted, gripping her hips in an attempt to ground him to something, still convinced he was dreaming somewhere inside his head.  She was driving him to distraction, a small laugh filling his ear that told him she was now in charge.</p>
<p>“Still think you are dreaming?” Emma purred, sinking onto him a little more.</p>
<p>“Christ, Emma,” Killian rasped, the muscles of her core clenching around him and pulling him in deeper.  He grabbed under her thighs, lifting her into a more comfortable position on his lap so that he could slide closer to the edge of the cushions on his couch.  </p>
<p>Emma gasped again, his velvety length slipping further inside of her and making her stiffen instantly.  Killian grinned, hips rolling into her as he let her down gently, slowly, until he was seated fully within her and they both exhaled hard.  He was big, much thicker than anyone Emma had ever slept with before, and she welcomed the way he stretched her with a moan.</p>
<p>“You like that, love?” Killian whispered, his lips inches from her ear as her head rolled back on his shoulder.  He pulled her back, laying her flat against his chest and skimmed his hands over her body once more, palming her breast in one hand whilst snaking the other between her legs again.</p>
<p>“I love it,” Emma panted, her hand fisting into his hair, hips canting gently against his in an attempt to get him to move.</p>
<p>“Do you want more?” He growled, his tone taking on a darkness that made her skin tingle with excitement.   She nodded dumbly, unable to feel anything but the high of alcohol and his hardness inside of her.</p>
<p>“I want all of you,” Emma purred sweetly, relief washing over her when he began to pull out of her.  The delicious drag of him against her walls made her arch her back and he had to hold her from wriggling off of him, seating himself deeper inside of her with a forceful thrust.  “Oh fuck,” she squeaked, pulling at his hair harder.</p>
<p>“You said you wanted all of me, Emma,” Killian teased, ramming his entire length into her once more.  She cried out again, more profanity tumbling from her lips as he moved into her.  “Take all of me, love,” Killian ground out through clenched teeth as he moved.  “Take it.”</p>
<p>Fuelled by rum and desire he moved, steadily driving her into another state of pleasure.  Her sighs were like music to his ears, loud and clear over the ringing, spurring him on to wring every last drop of arousal out of her before he fell.  His heart pounded in his chest so hard he thought it might break through his sternum and he was sure she could feel it against her shoulder blade as she moved.  </p>
<p>“I’m taking it,” Emma panted, her body bouncing as he drove up into her.  “Fuck me harder, Killian,” she sighed, her body on the precipice of euphoria.  “I’m so close.”</p>
<p>“Me too, love,” Killian grunted, his balls aching.  “I’m going to come so hard.”</p>
<p>“Together,” she whimpered, her hand flying up to cover his over her breasts, kneading the flesh and tugging her nipple through a gap in his fingers.  “Come with me, Killian,” she begged, rolling her hips harder, using her body movement to make sure he rubbed all of the right places.  Killian moved his hand to her clit, pressing hard against the swollen nub, coaxing her to her peak because he couldn’t hold on any longer.</p>
<p>“Shit, Emma, I’m coming,” Killian whispered, wrapping his arms around her and fighting her as she rode out her release.  “I’m coming, love, I’m coming!”</p>
<p>The second Killian came he tried to pull out of her, his brain fogged from the rum but still competent enough to know that they were taking a huge risk if he came inside her.  He wasn’t wearing a condom, and Emma was too far gone, quaking in his arms and stiffening as her own orgasm ripped through her to realise the consequences of their actions.  His hot, ropey seed shot out over Emma’s body, the last jerk of his hips smearing it between her lips as he crowed.</p>
<p>They collapsed onto each other, Killian’s still hard length resting gently against her sex, and Emma’s inner muscles still fluttering with the loss of him as her orgasm ebbed away.  They were panting heavily, muscles aching, and Emma chuckled, wrapping herself in his arms a little tighter and nuzzling the side of his face with her nose.  She looked down her body, a haze around her vision, and laughed harder.</p>
<p>“We made a mess,” she cooed.</p>
<p>“We did,” Killian agreed drunkenly, a slight slur to his words.  </p>
<p>He felt on top of the world like he might be sorry once he was sober, but there was one thing he absolutely knew for certain and that was that if Emma was gone in the morning, then this had just been another cruel trick of his drunken mind.  He would wake, like the many times he had before, and he would just have the light buzz of an afterglow still coursing through his body.  But it would be just a facade.</p>
<p>Killian really hoped she was there tomorrow, for the sake of his heart.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had only been a few hours since they had migrated to the bedroom, too tired to engage in any more sexual activities after they had christened the kitchen counter, the shower and then the couch.  Again.  Very few words passed between them afterwards, instead, Emma cuddling into the side of his body and letting sleep take her.  The last thing she remembered before she fell asleep was Killian’s thumb brushing over her upper arm, her head resting on his chest as she watched it steadily rise and fall in the shadow of the room.</p>
<p>When Emma woke up it was still dark, the steady pounding of rain against the thin panes of glass in Killian’s windows rousing her from her sleep.  She was uncomfortable, the mattress she was sleeping on not her usual one, and her neck was craned at a weird angle.  She blinked a few times, her eyes heavy and her mouth dry.  Her tongue was swollen, coated in a metallic, coppery rum taste that wouldn’t even go when she smacked her lips together hurriedly.</p>
<p>Soft snoring made her freeze, the sounds deepening just for a second and echoing right in her ear.  She lifted her head, the pain in her neck causing her to wince, its protest at being straightened shooting directly down to her shoulder in a burning sensation.  The cold air in the room invaded the side of her face, but she didn’t notice as her eyes fell onto the sleeping man beside her. </p>
<p>Killian was out cold, comatose beside her and he didn’t even flinch when she slid away from him.  She watched him sleep for a second, just to make sure he wouldn’t wake, the deep breath he took filling his lungs before expelling it into his pillow.  He was lying on one of his arms, his hand tucked underneath his pillow and the other hanging loosely at his side.  It had been wrapped around her, but since Emma had slipped from his grasp, his hand was laying there clenched closed around nothing.</p>
<p>He looked happy, serene, with contentment about him that made him practically glow in the dim light that spilled through the window from the street.  Killian’s apartment was only one floor up, the light bouncing off the ceiling and spreading over his face as he slept.  Emma watched him, a slight nervousness about her every time he took a breath because she was scared he would wake.</p>
<p>Emma only had a slight memory of the night before, and if the taste in her mouth was anything to go on, she had drunk a lot.  Rum if she guessed right, and by the way her back was aching, something else had happened.  This wasn’t the first time Emma had slept in Killian’s bed and woke up next to him.  They had been friends a long time after all, but this felt different.  Everything hurt like she had run a mile and if the slight burn between her legs was anything to go by, she had recently had sex.</p>
<p>
  <em>Oh no!</em>
</p>
<p>The night before came flooding back to her in a heartbeat.  His hands on her body, in her body, everywhere she had needed them for as long as she could remember.  She remembered why her back hurt, she remembered why her mouth tasted of stale booze and above all, she remembered why she hurt so much downstairs.  It seemed years of longing, imagining and masturbating whilst thinking of him hadn’t properly prepared her for Killian’s size.</p>
<p>Emma swallowed hard, a dull throb in her sex igniting her desire at the thought.  She had to have been imagining him.  No one was that big, were they?  Emma pushed herself into a sit, tucking her leg under herself and it made the sheet slip away from his body.  She froze, petrified he would wake up, but he didn’t, ignoring the feel of the cotton brushing across his body.  She felt her blood quicken in her veins, but her inquisitive nature won over her fear and she gently lifted the sheet covering him.</p>
<p>He was beautiful, sculpted by a higher being, the soft hairs lining his stomach reminding her of how they had tickled her back the night before.  They disappeared down under his naked waistline to where the real treasure lay, his heavy length resting languidly against his inner thigh.  He was big, long, and thick and Emma shivered at the mere thought of what he had done to her last night, the burning stretch still evident between her legs.</p>
<p>Killian moved without warning and Emma dropped the sheet, the blood pounding in her ears with panic.  Her only thought was a half muddled conflict of stay or go, her heart telling her to accept what had happened between them, curl back up in his arms and stay.  Her brain on the other hand, ever the voice of reason and the reason she could only tell him she loved him whilst drunk, told her to go.  Run back to her apartment and pretend last night hadn’t happened.  She knew Killian was a lightweight and with a few rums in him, he probably wouldn’t remember anyway.</p>
<p>Emma slipped from the sheet, praying he didn’t wake up and find her naked in his room.  That would take all sorts of explaining, and if her brother David ever found out, he would be beyond mad.  Killian wasn’t exactly his biggest fan, for reasons unknown to her, so she figured it was probably best that they parted ways before anyone noticed.  And then, as she gathered up her discarded panties and his old shirt, she heard something that made her panic for real.</p>
<p>
  <em>“I love you, Emma Nolan.”</em>
</p>
<p>She spun from her place in the doorway, clutching the frame for balance as she stared at the slumbering man on the bed.  She had heard her name, as clear as day, but he was still asleep, the words tumbling from his lips without him knowing.  Emma held her breath, waiting for him to sit up, look at her, or something.  But he didn’t.  And wide-eyed, she tiptoed around his room, trying to find the rest of her discarded clothes.</p>
<p>After finding a shirt, which was one of Killian’s she had pilfered many years ago anyway, Emma snuck through to the lounge.  Her feet moved silently across the floor, through the gauntlet of furniture in the darkness as she fumbled blindly for the couch.  Her panties had to be somewhere nearby because she hadn’t found them anywhere else, and in her haste to get out of the bedroom, she wasn’t even sure if she had searched all that thoroughly.</p>
<p>“Shit,” She mouthed silently to herself when skimming a hand over the cushions of the couch came up empty.  She tucked a few fingers down between the edge of the seat but nothing but lint came up with her fingers.  As she stepped back, the metal clasp of something stabbed her in the foot, and relieved, Emma reached down to find her bra.</p>
<p>She quickly snapped it on, tugging it down into place and it wasn’t long before a few more well placed sideways steps found her shirt too.  She tugged it on over her head, the coolness of the material making her shiver when it hit her skin.  All of the hairs along her arms stood to attention, goosebumps prickling over her flesh and a shiver ran up her spine.  </p>
<p>What had she been thinking?  Had her evening really been everything she had ever wanted, if not more, and she was too drunk to remember half of it?  Alcohol still coursed through her system, her brain foggy as she moved around in the darkness.  How much had she drunk?  Her wondering didn’t last long, because as she blindly felt over the length of the couch, she found an empty bottle that smelled like rum.  Emma grimaced, chastising herself.</p>
<p>She wished she could remember.  She wished she hadn’t decided that tonight was going to be the night she told Killian how she felt.  And above all else, she wished, as she frantically crawled across the floor on her hands and knees, that she had worn pants.  The sound of Killian’s snoring subsided for a second, and Emma pushed herself to her feet and stared hard at the bedroom door.  </p>
<p>After what seemed like an age of silence, Emma had decided that she couldn’t look any longer.  Her panties were a loss.  She would just throw out the bra and buy a new set.  It would be easier than trying to explain to Killian why she had left them at his apartment, and if she didn’t say anything about them, he would never know.  She slipped through the front door, confident that in the dead of night, she wouldn’t be seen by anyone on her short excursion back to her apartment.</p>
<p>This was easy.  Two flights of stairs, dimly lit by a glowing green emergency bulb, out the door at the bottom of the building where the security guard would be undoubtedly asleep, and then across the street, around the corner and into her apartment.  Easy.  Or so, Emma thought.  </p>
<p>As soon as she stepped outside, the pavement was freezing, making her toes curl against the harsh surface.  Emma hissed, tiptoeing across the deserted street, almost gliding over the asphalt as she moved.  She hugged her arms tightly to her body, a shiver sinking into her bones and the hair on the back of her neck standing to attention.  It was cold, way too cold to be semi-naked, and Emma tugged down the shirt she was wearing to try and keep the heat in her buttocks.</p>
<p>“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she chanted to herself, shaking her head as she crossed the street.  “You couldn’t have just called him?” She mumbled, her teeth chattering because of the cold.  “Or wrote a big sign and stuck it in the fucking window?”  </p>
<p>Their apartments overlooked each other and it wasn’t unusual for them to write little messages in the windows.  Once Killian had told her, via one of these little messages, how pretty she looked before she went for a job interview.  It had made her heart soar so high that she didn't even remember much of the interview, constantly daydreaming about his smile the entire time instead.  Emma’s were often much less poetic, telling him to tidy his apartment, or not to leave his wet towels over leather furniture, but were often returned with a smiley face on a sheet of paper.</p>
<p>One year, they had even bought each other binoculars.</p>
<p>Emma smiled to herself, the memory one of happiness, but it was short-lived when she was suddenly grabbed from behind.  Before she had time to scream, a leather-clad hand covered her mouth, and she was spun around into the darkness between the buildings. Whoever had grabbed her was much stronger than she was, pinning her against the harsh brickwork of her building with ease, his free hand running over her body.</p>
<p>Emma’s eyes went wide with panic, the man’s gloved hand slipping between her legs and his breath hitching in his throat when he discovered she wasn’t wearing panties.  His breath was tainted with what smelled like fine cigars, and Emma fought the urge to vomit as bile crept up the back of her throat.  He smelled clean, freshly showered and the clothes he wore were freshly laundered.  Even his gloves smelled new, held tightly over her mouth as she gasped for breath between sobs.  She struggled and he leaned against her even harder, her cheek scraping the side of the building and the instant sting of a graze igniting her face.</p>
<p>He didn’t say a word.  All Emma could hear was panting in her ear, her eyes pinched closed in the hopes it was all a horrible dream.  She felt the weight of him press between her buttocks and he canted his hips, growing harder as he did, her screams only turning him on more.  Emma’s entire body shook, her arms trapped underneath her body as a heavy boot kicked her ankles apart and her t-shirt was yanked up to expose her bare breasts.</p>
<p>“Please,” she cried but the sound was muffled into his glove, her tears running down over the black leather.  He ignored her pleas, pulling himself free from the confines of his pants, his length searing hot against her skin.  Emma tried to shake her head, to detest any way she could, but it was to no avail.  Every muscle in her body tensed, the pain between her legs as he pushed into her already sore entrance making her wail into his glove.</p>
<p>The fog of alcohol was gone, a very real reality descending upon her.  Emma knew she had two choices.  To fight and possibly die, or to give in and hope that whoever he was, he wouldn’t want to kill her anyway.  It didn’t matter though, because in the split second her brain came up with scenarios, it was blackened by her head being smashed against the wall.  Emma's cries stopped, too dazed to even know where she was when another blow was delivered to the back of her head and she felt her consciousness slipping away.</p>
<p>The hold on her loosened, her body turning into a dead weight in his arms, and he held her up as he finished his task.  Emma vaguely recalled protesting, the words leaving her mouth not those in her head before she finally succumbed and her world faded to black.</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>David’s new partner was ridiculous in every sense of the word.  Young, fresh-faced and so new out of the academy that David could practically smell the shine of boots and the newly embossed badge that sat pristinely and level on the man’s belt.  And just like a brand new baby or a puppy, Graham Humbert was awake with the dawn and ready to go hunting for the criminal scum that resided in their city as soon as his feet touched the ground.  David, in contrast, needed a few more coffees.</p>
<p>“Good morning, sir,” Graham chimed as David pushed his way through the door to their bullpen.  The sound of silence was shattered by the oddly Americanized Irish accent his partner sported, much to David’s chagrin.</p>
<p>“Humbert,” David grunted, his voice still affected by his lack of sleep.  </p>
<p>Graham held up a coffee cup and the chocolatey notes wafted through the small opening in the plastic lid and straight into David’s nostrils, much to his annoyance.  “Just the way you like it,” Graham offered with a smirk.</p>
<p>“What do you want?” David grumbled, swiping the freshly brewed coffee from his partner.  He lifted the cup to his face, inhaling deeply before realising that this wasn’t just any cup of coffee.  Oh no.  It was none other than what many officers considered the best coffee in the city, and David knew Graham had gone to great lengths to keep it hot before his arrival, timing the delivery of his gift just right.</p>
<p>“Nothing, sir,” Graham shrugged.  He stood with a beaming smile on his face that made David suspicious.</p>
<p>“What’s with the shit faced grin then, rookie?” David rasped, shooting Graham a last glance before he headed straight past him and to his desk. </p>
<p>“Why would you-,” Graham began, falling into step behind his new superior.</p>
<p>“Because I've been a cop for a long time, and an older brother even longer, so I know when somebody wants something.”  David reached his desk at the back of the office space and searched the mass of paperwork for something he could move to make room for the coffee currently scalding his fingers.  He settled on an old cold case, moving it aside with a careless swipe and causing Graham to frown as he put the coffee down into the space.  “So,” he began, sidestepping into the worn patch of carpet between his desk and his chair before falling down into the high back leather seat.  “Why the gleeful smirk?”</p>
<p>Like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar, Graham’s shoulders slumped a little and he sighed a long, shaky breath.  Nervously, his smile faded and he fiddled with his belt-mounted badge before he settled his eyes back onto David’s expectant face.  “I thought, seeing as I have been your partner-,”</p>
<p>“My subordinate,” David interrupted as he reached for his coffee.</p>
<p>“For nearly two months,” Graham continued, ignoring the intrusion with a clenched jaw.  “Well, I thought that maybe it was time for me to-,”</p>
<p>“Spit it out, rook,” David teased, lifting the golden topped caffeinated perfection to his lips.  A few of the other guys in the office chuckled, knowing better than to cross David themselves but enjoying the way Graham was really trying.  Graham sighed again, his cheeks pinking because of their chortles.  “What were you thinking?”</p>
<p>“That I might be able to drive the cruiser today?” Graham said quickly, after a deep breath.</p>
<p>“No,” David said quickly, lifting the coffee toward his lips.  With his other hand, he removed the lid, the intense caramel smell alone nearly enough to bring him out of his sleepy daze.</p>
<p>“Well then, can I-,”  </p>
<p>“No,” David cut him off.</p>
<p>“But-,” Graham began but his words were interrupted yet again by the shrill shrieking of the phone on David’s desk.  He frowned when David silenced him with a pointed finger, setting his coffee carefully and methodically back down onto the spot he had cleared on his desk.</p>
<p>“Nolan,” David grumbled into the phone, rearranging the receiver so that it sat on his shoulder unaided.  “Yeah,” David said quickly and hadn't even finished the word before he was pushing himself to his feet.  “Send the casefile to my phone and we’ll be right there.”</p>
<p>“We’ve got a case?” Graham asked excitedly, his face lighting up as David replaced the lid on his coffee ready for travel.  He’d only been with David for eight weeks, but he was already trained like a dog to recognize the signs of a new case. David didn’t answer him before he barged passed him, the keys to the patrol car jingling as they dangle from his fingers.  “Can I take point?” Graham added hurriedly as he almost jogged after David.</p>
<p>“Not on this one,” David said angrily with a shake of his head.  He almost ran through the precinct, the hot coffee cup in his hand finding a trash can along the way.</p>
<p>“Why not?” Graham demanded with aggravation, his gaze fixed on the discarded beverage that had cost him more than he was ever willing to pay for coffee.  “I’m sick and tired of being treated like a nobody, like a dogsbody on the best of days.  Hey!”  </p>
<p>David wasn’t listening and had carried on with his journey through the already bustling reception area, shooting a glance at the desk sergeant as he breezed through.  Her name was Granny (not her real name, obviously, but no one actually knew it) and despite appearing as pure as the driven snow, she was tenacious and undoubtedly the boss of everyone.  Even if she wasn’t in charge officially, nothing happened in her precinct without her knowing, and she and David had this oddly old fashioned relationship that made Graham think twice about crossing either of them at the risk of offending the other.</p>
<p>“Nolan!” Graham shouted as they both spilled out of the door onto the street where all of the patrol cars were parked.</p>
<p>“What?!” David roared, spinning on his heels to face the young blood behind him.</p>
<p>“Give me the case!” Graham insisted.</p>
<p>“Not this one!” David shouted over the roar of traffic.</p>
<p>“I’m ready to take the lead!” Graham added, his voice broken up as he jogged down the stairs after his partner.  “I know what I’m doing, you know,” Graham huffed, waving his arms around for emphasis.  “I didn’t just waltz in off the street with a badge that fell out of my cereal box for Christ’s sake!”</p>
<p>David stopped right beside their police cruiser, pressing the button to unlock the doors but not opening the driver’s side.  His abruptness when he turned took Graham by surprise, and he jumped back a little at the intimidating way David was looking at him.  David thrust his hand into his pocket, yanking his cell phone from the confines of his pants and unlocking the screen with a few angry taps to the glass screen.  Graham watched confused until David tossed the device at him and pointed to it as it landed in his hands.</p>
<p>“I said no,” David growled through clenched teeth.</p>
<p>Graham’s eyes skimmed over the screen in his hands and even though he wasn’t one hundred per cent sure of what he was actually reading, a few keywords jumped out of the page and made his blood run cold.  <em>Beaten.  Bruised.  Raped.  Nolan, Emma.</em>  He lifted his head like a band between his jaw and his sternum had snapped, wide-eyed and suddenly feeling a lot less prepared than he had been in the bullpen.  “That’s your sister,” he said dumbly.</p>
<p>“Now you understand. Not this one,” David ground out again, pulling the handle of the car door open.  “Get in.”</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Birds.  Of all the things to cause the throbbing in his skull, Killian would never have put his money on the small, chirping vagrants outside of his window.  As luck would have it, or not in his case, his apartment was built right next to a tall tree, in which birds roosted right outside of his bedroom window, but he was more than sure that by this time of year, they should have flown south.  Or north.  Or whenever birds go when the mornings start to become crisp and the evenings draw in a little earlier than the night before.</p>
<p>The room was cold, despite the half-drawn curtains permitting the light to pass through their folds.  No light touched the bed, the mocking glow simply casting its orange ambience about the place like an uninvited guest, touching what it liked but by no means warming the place up with its presence.  Killian stirred, the thin sheet covering him finally sliding all the way off the bed and landing in a heap to the side, the dull thud of linen causing him to finally open one eye.</p>
<p>He grumbled and shivered but did not move, his limbs still fully asleep to the world.  There were exactly two things on his mind as he willed his hand to reach over the side of the bed and reclaim his only barrier from the chill; Why was he naked?  And why was he hungover?  He moved his hand around beside the bed, his fingertips brushing the fallen sheet but not quite reaching enough to grab it.  With a groan, and after deciding he had sacrificed enough of his body warmth for the futile task, Killian tried to sit up, white lights flashing behind his eyelids when the throbbing in his head escalated.</p>
<p>“Good Gods,” he huffed, pinching his eyes closed even harder now that he was upright.  He rubbed his forehead, digging his fingertips into the sides of his temples at every swipe in an attempt to ease some of the pain, but still, it persisted.</p>
<p>Everything hurt.  His ears, his eyes, his head, even his lips, which was an oddly new side effect from intoxication, but who was Killian to question it.  The room even had a musk, the spice of rum and the taint of sex hanging thick in the air.  Peeling one eye open, Killian looked sideways and made a quick note of the state of his bed, sheets dishevelled and twisted in more ways than he could ever have accomplished by himself.  Smacking his lips together he detected the faintest hint of something -<em> someone</em> - unusual, and a quick glance down to where his pubic hair was matted with come from both parties answered one of those questions.</p>
<p>Last night, he had not been alone.</p>
<p>“Ah, bloody hell.” With a tremendous effort, Killian rolled his body to the edge of the bed, limbs aching and heavy.  Whoever he had slept with was someone he had met at a bar, but he wasn’t sure if the more enjoyable activities had been before, during, or after he drank himself into a stupor.  Whoever it was, she hadn’t stayed to face him in the morning, so although both he and his sheets were covered in the evidence of a tryst, that was the only evidence to be seen.</p>
<p>With one last final push, Killian managed to sit up again, but the ringing in his ears turned to a piercing pain, followed by an intense wave of nausea.  As soon as his feet touched the floor, he felt the bile rise into his throat, burning the back of his tongue, even through the alcohol-induced fur that was covering it.  Killian didn’t know for sure, but he was sure his teeth hurt like he had been clenching his jaw tightly or someone had punched him.  It wasn’t unlike him to get a bit hot-headed when he was drunk, especially when Emma was around.</p>
<p>He must have gone out with her.  There were not many people Killian would have accompanied out for the evening who could have got him as drunk as he was.  She might have been much smaller than he was, but Emma could drink his lightweight arse under any table put in front of them.  Maybe she knew who the woman was who had sullied his fine sheets?  Maybe, even if Emma didn’t know who she was, she might be able to help him find out.  Emma was always better at remembering details than he was, and she had a particular penchant for recalling details about women he decided to flirt with in bars.</p>
<p>There just seemed to be one problem with his plan, and although small to some, it would take a monumental effort on his part.  Killian remembered, and he wasn’t sure quite how this was the one thing he did recall, but his phone was charging in his kitchen, and he would have to make his way there to text Emma.</p>
<p>
  <em>Bugger.</em>
</p>
<p>Lifting each leg was more than an effort and his thigh muscles cried out in agony each time his foot hit the floor.  In the end, Killian half stumbled to the kitchen in a haze and when he reached the kitchen counter, he grabbed his phone with a little more desperation than entirely necessary.  Now fully charged, the phone was hot to the touch, and after a few minutes of focusing, Killian scrolled through enough contacts to reach Emma.  Her name was as clear as day on the screen and Killian wasted no time in activating the call, groaning as another wave of pulsating pain made his head throb as the ringing echoed in his ear.</p>
<p>“Come on, love,” Killian ground out, pinching the bridge of his nose and leaning all of his weight on his elbows.  “Answer the bloody phone.”</p>
<p>The monotony of ringing seemed never-ending, the tone continuing on and on until eventually the call was ended automatically.  Killian grunted in anger and slammed the phone down on the countertop, balling his fist and pounding the surface beside it.  Maybe Emma was as hungover as he was right now, avoiding the shrill of her phone in favour of some delightfully inviting sleep, which, following a long, steaming hot shower, Killian would certainly return to.</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>David moved much faster than Graham, bursting into the hospital and ignoring the way the doors bounced off of the wall behind them.  Graham only just managed to catch the wayward panel before it hit him, apologizing to a few older ladies who were waiting to exit the building through the very same doors.  He had no idea where David was going, other than to find his sister, but the hospital was a maze of identical corridors that reeked of warmed disinfectant and sanitiser and finding Emma was looking more and more unlikely.</p>
<p>“Nolan, wait,” Graham huffed, reaching for David’s elbow to stop him in his tracks.  David turned, fire in his eyes and wrenched his arm out of Graham’s grasp.  </p>
<p>“Get off of me,” he spat.</p>
<p>“Just think about what you are doing,” Graham implored.  “Please, think about Emma.”</p>
<p>David grit his teeth and inhaled hard.  “Don’t you think that’s what I am doing? Why I’m here?”</p>
<p>“You’re here because you were given a case,” Graham whispered in a hushed voice.</p>
<p>“So?” David frowned, agitated.</p>
<p>“So, you’re not thinking like a cop right now.”  Graham paused and David seemed to hear him, his brows pulling together.  “You’re thinking like a victim’s family member.”</p>
<p>“I am the victim’s family!” David growled, pointing a menacing finger at Graham.</p>
<p>“But that’s not what Emma needs right now,” Graham said calmly.  “She needs her big brother, yeah, but she also needs to know that we, the police, are in control and will do everything we can to find her attacker.”</p>
<p>David knew Graham was right.  There would be time for comforting Emma later, in private, when he managed to get her home after the battery of tests the hospital would surely be running.  He wasn’t a special victims cop, but David knew the drill.  He’d worked on so many cases like this before, seen so many victims in so many conditions, he couldn’t help but think the worst for his only sibling.  The muscle along David’s jaw contracted and stayed that way, his teeth squeaking with how tightly he was grinding them.</p>
<p>Graham was right and David fucking hated it.  He hated it more because Graham was new, a rookie with no expertise in anything other than directing traffic, let alone knowing what was best for his sister.</p>
<p>“You’re right.  I’m fine,” David ground out but the way he slammed his flat palm into the wall behind him revealed his lie.  When Graham gave him a look, unsure whether he should say anything else to his partner, David grumbled at the youngster’s concern.  “I said I’m fine,” he snapped.  “Now, get your notepad out and take notes.”</p>
<p>Emma’s room wasn’t far down the hall.  It wasn’t a room at all but rather a barely covered bed surrounded by disposable curtains.  David pulled the curtain back, tentatively grabbing the edge of the slightly scratchy, folded material and tugging it across the rail, and what he found on the other side broke his heart. </p>
<p>Emma was sitting on the edge of the gurney, the black, wipe-clean surface of the mattress exposed because the white sheet had shifted because she had been fidgeting.  She was dressed in a standard hospital gown, the tie at the back of her neck the only fastening, the material still sporting the fold lines where it had been stored before use.  As they entered, Emma lifted her head, her hair a bird's nest tangled upon her head, and offered her brother a sorrowful smile.</p>
<p>David could barely contain his emotions, eyes welling up at the sight of her.  Emma had bruises all over, more pronounced down the side of her face, her right eye already beginning to purple.  Underneath the massive black eye was a scrape covering most of her cheek, dried blood black and crumbling at the edge of it.  Her bottom lip was split, probably where she had bitten it by accident in the attack, and the wound was severely swollen.  Blood had run down her chin to where another graze had begun to scab and turn yellow, and her hairline was matted with yet more crimson from a cut hidden somewhere in her hair.</p>
<p>David didn’t know what to say.  What could he say?  His baby sister, his only living family, was sitting hunched on a cold hospital bed, a broken shell of a woman, bare feet dangling over the edge that drew his gaze.  They were bloody too, a few toes nails having been ripped off in what he can only assume was her attack.  <em>Attack.  </em>That’s what he kept calling it, because when someone is attacked they can be defended, whereas a victim has already had that civil liberty removed, and there was no way David wanted to think of the strongest woman he had ever known as such a thing.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry,” Emma murmured, dropping her gaze back down to her feet.  One of her big toenails was beginning to turn black where the traumatic injury had started showing, the throbbing in the nail bed paling in comparison to the ache in her entire body.</p>
<p>“What? No,” David insisted, moving to his sister's side.  “This wasn’t your fault,” he told her firmly but with an air of compassion that made her lips tick into a nervous smile.  David had to dip his head to catch Emma’s gaze, and he tried to hide the anger surfacing at the sight of her.  “You hear me?” He added, but when he moved to rub her shoulder in comfort, Emma suddenly flinched away, causing the gurney to rattle.</p>
<p>David shot Graham a look when his partner appeared in the doorway, a silent conversation happening between them with Emma as the main subject.  She had never been one to shy away from anything, least not a fight, but this assault had left her hollow and damaged beyond recognition.  David was a lot of things, but good at hiding his rage wasn’t one of them.  Graham noticed the twitch of David’s eye and the slight flare in his nostrils and nodded in understanding.  They would get this guy, and if David had anything to do with it, he would be sorry.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry,” Emma sobbed, her emotions finally breaking through the dam and tears bursting from her eyelids.  She buried her face in her hands and her body began to shake, her sobbing echoing in the room, a small rasp in the back of her throat every time she inhaled. </p>
<p>David’s hand was poised, hovering over his sister’s shoulder, scared to touch her again.  He had no words, but he didn’t need any, because, with a small cough to indicate her entrance, all eyes moved to the doorway between two curtains where Graham had moved aside to make room for a smartly dressed lady.  David’s jaw nearly hit the floor.  She was clearly a cop, he’d spot one a mile off, and her short, almost black bob framed her beautifully round face to give her an angelic quality he found instantly calming.  Straightening her tailored jacket by brushing her hands down over the flaps covering the non-existent pockets, she cleared her throat once more before trying to ignore the way the man in front of her was making her blush.</p>
<p>“Emma?”  She asked softly and Emma nodded, prompting her to step forward.  Protectively, David stayed at his sister’s side, but Graham slipped into a corner of the room realising that he was neither wanted nor needed at this moment.  “My name is Mary Margaret Blanchard,” the woman said, stepping closer but stopping just short of the cowering woman in front of her.  “I work for the police with special victims.  Would it be okay if I asked you some questions?”</p>
<p>Emma sniffed, levelling her emotions unsuccessfully, wiping her nose with the back of her shaking hand.  Graham stepped forward, swiping a box of tissues from a nearby tray which showed signs of recent activity and holding it out for Emma.  </p>
<p>“Here,” he offered shyly and she gave him a watery smile as she plucked one from the box, dabbing at the corners of her eyes as she heaved a sigh and nodded at the female cop in front of her.</p>
<p>“Sure,” she said in a small voice.</p>
<p>“Actually, I don’t think Emma is feeling up to this right now,” David interjected.  His voice was firm but with a hint of regret because he already preferred the shorter, prettier cop to his current partner.  </p>
<p>“Is that what you want, Emma?” Mary Margaret pressed gently, giving David a sideways glance.</p>
<p>Emma shook her head.  “No, I can talk.”  She swallowed.  “I want to help find this guy.”</p>
<p>The smile Mary Margaret gave her was warming and filled her with a sense of calm, and she reached inside the inner pocket of her blazer, pulling out a small dictaphone.  She fiddled with it, making sure the tape was rewound all the way, before setting it down on the tray Graham had found the tissue on.  </p>
<p>“Is this okay? If I record our conversation to transcribe later?”  She smiled and Emma smiled back instinctively, feeling even more at ease at the presentation of the device.  It meant she would be able to give Emma her full and undivided attention, not held up in a state of distraction whilst taking notes, and Emma wondered if maybe that was why Mary Margaret had chosen her profession; she had the heart and genuine proclivity for helping others, and even the smallest actions Emma had seen so far told her so.</p>
<p>“David, maybe we should go get a coffee,” Graham suggested to his partner, nudging his head towards the door.  David looked up at him with a darkness in his eyes that made Graham swallow hard, but he softened pretty quickly when Emma laced her fingers through his and gave his hand a small tug.</p>
<p>“I’ll be fine,” she told her brother and he looked down at her and squeezed her hand.  “I will,” she promised with a nod.</p>
<p>David let out a grunt of frustration.  He had hoped to be present when Emma gave her statement but the nature of the crime meant it would be impossible to wait until they could get her to the station.  There were a barrage of tests that had to be run, blood work and the all-important rape kit, which he couldn’t even consider his sister ever needing.  The idea was soul-destroying and to think that someone had defiled his sister didn’t bear thinking about.  May God help them when he found them.</p>
<p>“Come on,” Graham prompted again when Mary Margaret gave him a pleading look to remove his partner when David failed to remove himself from Emma’s side.  “Let’s go and get you a coffee and I can have a smoke.”</p>
<p>“Fine,” David huffed.  “But I’ll be close by if you need me,” he told Emma, giving her a small smile as he finally exited the room, Graham hot on his heels.</p>
<p>As soon as he left and she heard the curtain pulled back across the rail, Emma felt a slight panic, the courage she had been trying to exude in front of her sibling finally fading away and making way for more crying.  She whimpered and covered her mouth to hide the sound, trying to hold it in, but her sobs made her entire body shake.</p>
<p>“Emma, if this is too much-,” Mary Margaret began, but Emma halted her with a quaking hand.</p>
<p>“No, it’s alright,” Emma insisted, but the slip of her words reminded her of Killian and she tried to swallow a hard lump that had formed in her throat.</p>
<p>They had shared something last night that had been far from a mistake, even if, perhaps, it had not been executed most responsibly.  Emma hadn’t been running to hide from Killian, but her own feelings, ashamed of how easily alcohol had torn down the walls around her heart.  She should have been brave enough to tell Killian how she felt, what she had wanted with him, because now all she could think of was how the best night of her life was also the absolute worst.  Emotion clogged up the back of her throat once more and she blinked the tears from her eyes.</p>
<p>“Would you like me to call anyone for you?  Maybe a partner?”  As much as she wanted to reach out and comfort the young woman in front of her, Mary Margaret knew that Emma would be delicate right now.  “Anyone other than your overbearing brother out there?”  Mary Magaret threw a thumb over her shoulder and quirked an eyebrow, hoping her little joke would help ease the tension of reality in the small cubicle.</p>
<p>Emma coughed out a laugh.  “Isn’t he?” </p>
<p>“A little,” Mary Margaret agreed with a playful shrug.  </p>
<p>“He means well,” Emma nodded and she suddenly missed David being next to her.</p>
<p>Emma’s smile faded along with her laughter, making way for more tears, and Mary Margaret noticed that Emma was clutching at the edge of her nightgown, trying to pull it impossibly lower and cover the concrete grazes on her knees.  She could see Emma conflicted with something, but she didn’t know what exactly.  Mary Margaret wasn’t sure if it was her years of training or a womanly intuition, but there was definitely something Emma was stewing on.</p>
<p>“Who did this to you, honey?”  She asked gently.  “Did you know him?”</p>
<p>There was sympathy in the woman’s voice, but no pity and Emma hastily wiped the tears from her cheeks and shook her head.  “No, I didn’t see his face,” she sniffled, the crumpled up tissue in her hand now soaking wet.  “He grabbed me from behind.”</p>
<p>“That’s okay,” Mary Margaret assured her whilst hastily taking notes in the dog-eared note pad in her hand.  “Did he say anything?”</p>
<p>Emma shook her head.  “Not a word.”</p>
<p>“Did you see anything he was wearing?  Any tattoos or distinguishing features or smells you remember?”  Mary Margaret’s prompt made Emma frown in thought and she paused, pen poised above the lined page of her notepad.</p>
<p>“He smelled like smoke or cigars.  It reminded me of the father in one of our foster homes.”  Emma made a gesture with her hands, semi covering her mouth.  “When he grabbed me, he wore gloves, and I remember thinking how new they smelled.”</p>
<p>“New?” Mary Margaret asked quickly.</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Emma nodded.  “Like new leather.”</p>
<p>“Were they leather?” Mary Margaret asked eagerly.</p>
<p>Emma blushed.  “Maybe. I’m not sure.”</p>
<p>“That’s okay, you’re doing excellent,” the policewoman encouraged with a smile.  “Would you say he was tall?”</p>
<p>Emma shrugged.  “Probably about the same height as David.”</p>
<p>“That’s good information.  You’re doing so well.” Mary Margaret offered her another warm smile.  "Would you say he was old or young?"</p>
<p>Emma snorted a sarcastic laugh.  "Hard to tell. He finished what he was doing pretty quickly."</p>
<p>Mary Margaret scribbled some more notes.  "And has the hospital conducted a rape kit yet?" Lots of victims didn't really feel vulnerability until <em>'rape'</em> was mentioned aloud.  She hated asking and it never got any easier to say, but she was worried than Emma might be rubbing away evidence by obsessively scratching her blunted and broken fingernails, blackened with dried blood, along the length of her gown.  </p>
<p>“Yeah.”  Emma paled and she wrapped her arms around herself, trying to appear even smaller than she already did.  Between her legs throbbed with a dull pinching sensation from the attack and the intensive swabbing from the multiple tests that were conducted.  Without meaning to, Emma remembered the night before and wished she had just stayed wrapped up in Killian’s arms.  Safe.  “Do you know if the nurses managed to get in contact with Killian yet?”</p>
<p>Mary Margaret blinked, scanning her notes but failing to see the name Emma had mentioned.  “Is he family?”</p>
<p>“He’s my best friend,” Emma said quietly.  </p>
<p>“I can call him,” Mary Margaret offered sweetly.  “Or I can get your brother-”</p>
<p>“No!” Emma blurted quickly, jumping on the bed and causing the metal frame to rattle.  “David doesn’t like him,” Emma added after the woman in front of her gave her a questioning glance.  “Please.  Dave doesn’t need to know.”  Emma paused and noticed a small bulge in Mary Margaret’s pocket.  “Could I call him?  From your phone?”</p>
<p>“Of course,” Mary Magaret nodded.  She fished out her cell and unlocked it, handing the device to Emma and noticed even more scrapes and cuts on her hands.  Emma’s knuckles were split, dried blood caking the joints, and her fingernails were short, the edges scuffed and irregular, clearly shortened by clawing at the brickwork she had been held against during the attack.  “I’ll be right outside.”</p>
<p>Once she was alone in the cubicle once more, the sounds of the hospital faded away and all Emma could hear was the coursing of her blood in her ears.  Even that hurt; the constant thumping echoing through her forehead where tension had already given her a headache.  The phone in her hand was foreign and cold when Emma dialled Killian’s number, feeling the weight of the device in her hand for what felt like hours.  What could she say?  How would she explain what had happened to her?  The shame of what had transpired was still so fresh, maring her consciousness and causing her to feel sick with anxiety.  How did she expect Killian to want to be her friend, let alone anything more now that she had been tainted with darkness?</p>
<p>Emma bristled at herself.  If she wasn’t careful the cursed thoughts would devour her whole, letting the darkness overtake her and snuff out the light.  Killian was her light.  He would burn away the shadows and she had known him long enough to know that he would never see her as anything less than the woman he loved; even if he was just as cowardly as she was to admit her feelings.  They had been idiots and had danced around what they had felt in their hearts for so long for so many ridiculous reasons, and Emma didn’t care anymore.  She just wanted his arms around her because she knew that she would feel infinitely better, and that was as good a starting point as she could have hoped for.</p>
<p>Emma pressed the call button, the little green phone symbol beginning to shake from side to side on the screen as the call went through.  Every ring in her ear made her anxiety skyrocket, her hand even beginning to tremble as she waited longer and longer for an answer, until, after a short click, Killian’s soothing voice crackled down the line.</p>
<p>“Killian Jones,” he said quickly, his voice short and slightly irritated from his hangover.</p>
<p>“Hey, it’s me,” Emma said shyly, sniffing to fight the sting of tears in the back of her sinuses.</p>
<p>“Emma?” Killian asked, his tone softening, the after-effects of too much alcohol disappearing immediately.  “I tried to call you.  Where are you?”  Just by chance, Killian was standing at his window, looking out across the street as Emma’s building, her curtains still closed.  Off to one side, down the alleyway between her building and the next was a single police officer standing guard over a taped off area and Killian frowned, inquisitive.  “There’s a cop outside your building,” he mentioned offhandedly.</p>
<p>The dam burst and Emma let out an almighty wail, pinching her eyes closed while the build-up of emotions left her.</p>
<p>“Emma, love, what’s wrong?” Killian’s voice was frantic and he felt the heat creep up the back of his neck as he listened to her cry, the sound fading away a little as if she had dropped the phone.  “Emma,” he prompted again, his own lump forming in his throat.  He tried to swallow it down but he hated to hear her so upset.  “Are you alright? Is it David? Did something happen?” He asked quickly, his rapid-fire questions met with more sobbing.</p>
<p>“I can’t tell him.”  Emma’s voice had suddenly grown even more distant and the sound of her sobbing had become muffled.</p>
<p>“Emma? Emma, please,” he begged, his skin prickling with heat.</p>
<p>“Killian Jones?” A woman’s voice suddenly invaded his ears and he frowned, a burst of anger overtaking him.</p>
<p>“Who is this?” He demanded.  “Where’s Emma?”</p>
<p>“Mr Jones, my name is Mary Margaret Blanchard and I’m with Emma Nolan-,”</p>
<p>“Where?” Killian snapped.  He scanned his apartment trying to find a shirt.  Why did he have so many shirts and not a single one in sight?  “Where is she?”</p>
<p>“At the hospital,” Mary Margaret confessed.  She felt Emma grab her hand, clutching it in hers like a child.  “There was an incident last night involving Miss Nolan.” When she looked down at Emma besides her, the young woman gave her a nod, her lip quivering as more tears streamed down her face.</p>
<p>“What sort of incident? Is she alright?”  Killian found a shirt, trapping his cell phone between his ears and his shoulder as he tugged it onto each arm and scrambled to fasten the buttons.  “Tell me she’s alright,” he pleaded, taking a breath and holding it, hoping - <em>praying</em> - the answer would be irrefutably fine.</p>
<p>Emma nodded again.  She could hear Killian’s voice, the worry escalating on every word, but for the life of her, she couldn’t find it in herself to tell him what had happened.  She was giving Mary Margaret, an unlikely ally, permission to tell him what she couldn’t.</p>
<p>“Mr Jones, Emma was raped.” </p>
<p>Killian stopped dressing halfway to putting his pants on, all of the blood leaving his face and the phone nearly falling out of his hand.  He stumbled, falling back against the wall behind him, the force of his body hitting it expelling all of the air from his lungs.  His stomach hurt, the butterflies quickly turning to razor blades, tearing him up from the inside.  He must have heard wrong.  There was no way that Emma would be anywhere near where that sort of thing could happen.  In fact, he’d seen her just last night from his apartment, waving him goodnight before she had drawn them closed at around ten o’clock.  </p>
<p>“Mr Jones?”  The voice was faint but it was enough to stop the images of Emma going through something like <em>that </em>flashing in front of his unblinking eyes.  “Mr Jones, are you there?”</p>
<p>“Aye,” he croaked, coughing to clear his throat.  “Aye, I’m here.”</p>
<p>“I think you should come and be with your friend,” Mary Margaret suggested.  “Emma could use a friend right now.”</p>
<p>“I’ll be right there,” Killian promised, quickly hanging up and stuffing the phone into his pocket.  </p>
<p>He scanned the apartment again, cursing under his breath when he failed to find his keys as quickly as he would have liked, the sound of Emma’s cries thundering in his memory, causing him to hate himself even more for not being at the hospital already.  At the door, he pulled on his boots, leaving the laces dangling as he pulled the door free from his frame and zipped out of it.  It slammed behind him, echoing down the hall, but he ignored it, feet pounding the floor as he forwent the elevator in favour of the stairs, leaping down both flights in three step intervals.  </p>
<p>When he rushed through the lobby, ignoring the way the security guard wished him good morning and burst out onto the street, the sunlight made his eyes hurt and he cursed, forcing them to stay open until he could distinguish his car from the others parked at the roadside.  Killian hadn’t even shut the door when he had the engine turned over and the vehicle in gear, screeching into the morning traffic to a cacophony of horns and yells from other drivers.  None of them mattered.  All that mattered was Emma.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Killian didn’t know exactly how long it had taken him to reach the hospital, but as soon as he had, he had been stopped at the door by Emma’s brother, David, and his new partner. For reasons David had always made clear, Killian had always been on his radar as a potential threat to his sister, and he had absolutely no problem throwing his weight around, backed by the equal heaviness of his badge. The new partner was just as eager to stop him seeing Emma, immediately throwing his cigarette to the ground and stomping it out far more aggressively than was entirely necessary, before setting himself firmly between the two men as David let Killian know exactly how he felt about his presence.</p><p>David Nolan was a detective, and from what Killian understood, a good one at that, but he was a shitty brother. If he cared even one iota about his younger sibling, sitting alone and afraid in a hospital, he would have pushed aside his unfounded hatred for Killian in favour of putting her first. <em>She</em> had called him, <em>she</em> had asked him to come, but all David could do was act selfishly, thinking he knew what was best for Emma, as usual. There was never any reasoning with David, about anything.</p><p>Killian had been a child thief, caught up in a world of crime in a gang known as the Lost Boys, until David, then a rookie, and his partner, had taken down the ring leader known only as Gold, and in doing so, had freed all of the kids under his thrall. Of course, they all ended up in the system, with no living relatives to take them in, and because of his young age, Killian had been lucky enough to have his record sealed. He’d then met Emma, but despite the years Killian had put between himself and his past, David Nolan never forgot a name, and never relented his opinion of someone. David was the detective now, he knew what was in Emma’s best interests, and this whole situation had given him even more faux power to enforce his will.</p><p>Pleading hadn’t helped but Killian would never win with logic, both David and Graham Humbert too power hungry and thick headed to see sense. David flat out refused to believe that Emma had called him, giving him an angry, narrowed stare like he was somehow involved with what had happened to her. Humbert had all but accused him in his partner’s defence, and it was only because David was Emma’s brother that he had let it slide. Maybe it was a sly tactic but Killian had simply retreated back to his car where he had called the female cop from earlier, Mary Margaret, and she had managed to get him inside the building. Meeting him in the lobby, a quick, pertinent conversation with David about how she didn’t care what he wanted but, instead, only cared for the well being of his sister, had the point slamming home much quicker than Killian had managed.</p><p>He might have even seen David blush pink like a chided school boy after all five foot six inches of the pretty little detective had put him in his place.</p><p>Regardless, she had become an instant ally, putting David in his place and encouraging him to follow her through the hospital corridors until they came to a small corner off of the ER where Emma was waiting. Killian heart beat faster in his chest as Mary Margaret reached for the curtain and pulled it back, announcing their arrival so as not to startle Emma on the other side.</p><p>“Emma?” She called out and was met with a wide eyed, panic stricken shell of a woman. “I didn’t mean to scare you,” she added quickly, but when Emma’s eyes shifted to the taller figure looming behind her, she stepped aside and let Killian through.</p><p>“Killian,” Emma breathed, hastily wiping away the tears that had fallen anew, her entire body screaming out for him as she leaned forward over the edge of the bed so much so her toes almost brushed the oddly warm title of the floor.</p><p>Killian didn’t say anything. Her appearance was enough to steal his words as well as his breath. Emma looked older than her years, haggard and tired, her normally shiny, blonde hair speckled with first and dust that made it look like she had been caught out in the rain. Black circles had begun to form under her eyes which were already puffy from crying, the whites of her eyes a shade of pink he had never, and never wanted to ever see contrasting with the once vibrant green of her irises. Emma blinked out more tears and they caught on the length of her lashes, dripping down between them, forgotten, as, in two strides, Killian was wrapping her up in his arms and holding her up against his chest like the most precious thing in the world.</p><p>Mary Margaret looked on as Emma scrambled to hold on to her friend, her fingers slipping over the surface of his shirt that was busy muffling more of her cries. They were tears of relief and any fool could see that the connection between the two people in front of her was something silently intrinsic. Emma was suddenly less afraid, Killian’s touch soothing her as he washed away her terror with huge, sweeping strokes of his hands down her back. At one point his fingers brushed her bare skin and rather than flinch away, or hiss in discomfort, Emma had simply tucked her head under his chin and let him pull the two sides of her gown together at her spine, restoring any dignity she had lost in the hospital and cocooning her in welcomed compassion.</p><p>“Emma, I need to speak with your doctor,” Mary Margaret coughed out, the display before her even a little too sensitive for her. “After that, I will head to the precinct and begin working on your case.”</p><p>“Thank you,” Killian answered for Emma and as he moved to face the police woman off in his peripheral, Emma clutched his body even tighter. “Thank you,” he reiterated, awkwardly reaching out for her hand in a show of gratitude. Mary Margaret took his hand and gave it a quick shake, before she slipped out through the curtain once more, leaving them alone in each other’s embrace.</p><p>“Emma, love-,” Killian began, his words muffled by how hard his lips were pressed to the crown of her head.</p><p>“Don’t,” Emma sniffed, sitting back away from him. “Don’t say you’re sorry.”</p><p>“Alright,” Killian agreed, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips at how resilient Emma really was.</p><p>“And I don’t want you giving me the ‘this isn’t your fault’ speech,” she added, wiping the back of her hand under her nose. “I’ve had enough of that from everyone else today,” she scoffed, and Killian knew she meant David. “I can’t take it from you too.”</p><p>“As you wish, love,” Killian solemnly promised. “Anything I <em>can</em> do?” He teased, brushing the strands of hair out of her face with a single finger and tucking it behind her ear.</p><p>Emma swallowed, remembering the feel of his hands on the rest of her body, trying to ignore the way the anxiety in her stomach ratcheted up its intensity with him so close. “Can I stay at your place?”</p><p>“Of course,” Killian agreed with a nod and without hesitation. “You think I’d have it any other way?” He raised one eyebrow playfully, the way he knew she loved, and was elated to see her offer him a weak smile in return.</p><p>“I feel safe with you,” Emma admitted shyly. “Thanks.”</p><p>“You <em>will</em> be safe with me, no thanks needed, love,” Killian told her, rubbing her shoulders in comfort. “And when, and if you want to tell David,” he began, idly pulling at a thread on the corner of her gown. “I’ll whisk you away to my second home in the country.”</p><p>Emma laughed, her head falling forward against his chest. She inhaled the smell of him, the musky mixture of sweat and his shower gel, refreshing and masculine, and above all else, secure, just like last night when they had made love. When she lifted her head, his hands cupped her face, thumbs tenderly brushing across the scraped skin of her cheek in a futile attempt to rub away her hurt. She smirked and there was mischief in her eyes, the brightness back in the green and Killian’s thumb pad brushed the corner of her mouth.</p><p>She couldn’t hide her happiness of him being the one to come and take her home, her skin warming under his touch as he stroked her skin impossibly softer. She almost whimpered when he pulled away from her but he was just reaching for a bag of clothes he had found in the back of his car. Emma took it when he was offered to her, opening what looked like his gym bag with a quirked brow.</p><p>“What?” He asked coyly.</p><p>“Is this your workout bag?” She laughed, scrunching her nose in mock disgust.</p><p>“It’s clean,” he insisted, offended. To prove his point, Killian grabbed one of his old Royal Navy tees and stuffed it under his nose, inhaling hard, exaggerating the sound he made afterward. “Ahhhhh!” he exhaled, offering it to her.</p><p>“No!” Emma screeched, pushing him away playfully.</p><p>Killian spun away from her, pivoting on his back heel in some sort of awkward parry, balling the grey marl fabric in his hands before tossing it back to her. Emma enjoyed his antics, chuckling at him the way she always did, thankful for him treating her like she was still an actual person, rather than a new statistic. When he turned away from her, Emma began to change, tugging on the fabric cord securing her gown behind her head and catching it as it slipped forward.</p><p>“Which part of the country?” Emma asked absentmindedly.</p><p>“Hmm?” Killian hummed, eyes focused on the ceiling. He had seen Emma change many times before but always had the good form to look away.</p><p>“Your second home,” she clarified, pulling the tee over her head and smoothing her hands over the faded Royal Navy emblem. “Which part of the country is it in?”</p><p>“Bold of you to assume I don’t have homes in multiple countries,” Killian grinned, and even though she couldn’t see his face, Emma could tell how wide and smug it was.</p><p>“Pfft!” Emma scoffed hopping off the table, much to the protest of her knees, that had already begun to bruise. She tugged on a pair of Killian’s sweatpants and secured the waist cords a bit tighter than he usually did as indicated by the way the braid was faded in parts usually hidden in the waistband. “Bold of you to assume I don’t know you, and therefore, am confident that you do not, in fact, own this imaginary second home.” Emma combed her fingers through her hair, the dirt and brickwork dust still coating every strand. She’d be glad to get back to Killian’s and take a shower.</p><p>“Well, now you’re uninvited.” Killian crossed his arms over his chest in mock annoyance, enjoying the way the sound of Emma’s chuckle filled his ears.</p><p>“Guess we’ll just have to lock the door when David comes knocking,” Emma suggested with a shrug.</p><p>Now fully dressed, she tapped him on his shoulder, indicating her decency. Killian turned and took her in. The way his clothes hung off of her made her look even smaller than she was, more fragile, somehow, but he knew he was just reading into his own thoughts based on what had happened to her. It would be hard to not think about her in light of why he was even at the hospital, but Killian was also a man of honesty and trusted that if Emma ever wanted to talk about what happened, she would. There would be enough people between her brother and the female cop wanting her to relive what had happened, and he would never want to add to her distress.</p><p>He stepped forward, using his middle finger to brush a wayward strand of her hair from her brow, Emma’s face erupting in a wide, serene smile. Her eyes fell closed, a content hum vibrating from in her throat as she relished in the feel of his skin on hers.</p><p>“Are you ready to leave, love?” Killian asked her softly.</p><p>Emma blew out of breath. “I thought you’d never ask.”</p><p>The journey back to his apartment had been exactly how Killian had imagined; silent. Huddled in the passenger seat of his car, still drowning in the size of his t-shirt, Emma had her knees bunched up to her chest and her head resting against the cool pane of the window. Each time the car hit a bump, or a pothole, Killian heard the soft thud of her forehead against the tempered glass, but she didn’t complain. Emma was lost in her own thoughts, the sunlight flashing across her face from where the sunset shone between buildings, her eyelids barely blinking out the harmful rays.</p><p>Killian had watched her the entire way out of the corner of his eye, constantly flicking his gaze to her unmoving figure and the road ahead. Once back at his place he parked the car and moved to help her out of it, mindful not to treat her like glass, but offer just the right amount of support that she might need. Still no words passed between them as they made their way up to his floor and into his apartment, glances from neighbours ignored in favour of making sure Emma was inside and safe. Crossing the threshold was like a weight off her shoulders and she seemed to relax, immediately curling up into a ball on the sofa where he left her to retrieve some blankets.</p><p>“I’ll just be a moment, love,” Killian promised, disappearing down the hall. His only reply was a hum of agreement.</p><p>When he returned, despite it being just a few hours into the evening, Emma was asleep. Even in sleep, she looked exhausted, her eyelids unable to remain unblinking any longer, the shape of her busily moulding into the cushions. She sighed a hefty breath and Killian smiled, content that she was finally at peace. Her day had been much longer than his, and even though his temples still pounded with the after effects of alcohol, it was nothing compared to the rigmarole of police questioning and hospital tests. He draped the newly acquired blanket over her body, dragging it up until it rested over her shoulders and she buried her nose down under the hem, rolling her shoulders into his touch as he smoothed the fleece material flat in a gentle attempt to wake her.</p><p>“Swan?” Killian whispered her nickname and dropped into a crouch in front of her. When her eyes slowly opened, swollen and red from her crying, his heart broke in half.</p><p>Two long blinks had her groaning her reply. “What?”</p><p>Killian smirked at her tenacity, even in sleep. “You’ll be more comfortable in the bed, I’d wager.”</p><p>“Carry me,” Emma grumbled, her eyes falling closed again.</p><p>“Of course,” Killian chuckled, pushing himself to his feet.</p><p>Emma was tiny in his arms, still curled up and wrapped up in the blanket he had covered her in when he hoisted her effortlessly into his arms. She snuggled into his chest and he let her clutch the material of his shirt between her fingers, holding onto him for dear life, like he might disappear if she let go. Killian carried her down the hall to his room, setting her down on the bed without a sound. Emma rolled over, divesting herself of the blanket and right into the very spot Killian slept in every night. He watched as, addled by exhaustion, she tucked her hand under his pillow and inhaled the scent of him, a smile of serenity finally bringing her expression back to that he knew and loved so much.</p><p>Killian only stopped watching her when he knew she had fallen asleep, content that she was safe to leave. He had already decided to sleep on the couch. Emma wasn’t going anywhere, and neither was he. Not if he had anything to say about it.</p><p>“Goodnight, Swan,” Killian uttered from the doorway, the smile not leaving his face, even when no reply came. He hoped her dreams were as peaceful as she appeared, but if not, he would always be there for whatever she needed.</p><p>Emma had slept almost constantly for nearly four days. Killian had managed to get some time off work to look after her, citing personal reasons, but he had felt mostly redundant the whole time. She had taken the bedroom, off down the hall in his apartment, but he found it difficult to focus on anything whilst she was in there for the first few days. She only came out to eat at meal times, or to quench her thirst, the conversation between them but a few words. Despite her seeming to rest continually, for the first few days, Emma always appeared looking more and more haggard each time, dark circles growing even more purple under her eyes but no match for the bruise to her cheek that had manifested more prominently after a few days.</p><p>On the third day, Emma began to venture out of the room without much prompting, but still with the slouched posture and a near constant yawning that hadn’t left her at all. She ached, he could tell, and it took everything Killian had to not reach out and massage her arms and legs as she slept beside him on the couch. She’d taken to snoozing there with him close by, and something he had also noticed was the way her hands had drifted across the planes of his chest in an almost possessive way, fingers gripping the material of his t-shirt like some sort of tether from her nightmares.</p><p>His mind raced constantly, but he didn’t want to seem overprotective, stalling his advances through the doorway when her interrupted dreams spilled out into the night and woke him from his own light slumber. Killian hated seeing the woman he loved so much broken, a shell of her former self, reduced to crying in the shower, where she thought he couldn’t hear her, and sleeping with a light on beside her bed. He hadn’t been much for violence but Killian sure wanted to hurt the bastard who had thought it alright to violate Emma so roughly, especially when her constant subconscious whimpers of <em>‘no’</em> and <em>‘please, Killian, help’ </em>had his blood boiling even hotter beneath his skin.</p><p>It took Emma over eight days before she stopped flinching every time Killian accidentally shut a cupboard door too hard, or dropped something whilst her back was turned. There weren’t enough words to convey his apology when her wide eyed, petrified stare met his each time, and he never thought he would enjoy seeing less of the green hue in her eyes as she became more and more relaxed. The bruises along one side of her face had turned her skin yellow and the tenderness had abated enough that whilst snuggled on the couch, Killian had been permitted to stroke the hair from her face as she slept with little sign of her discomfort. It felt good having Emma tucked up into the side of his body as they watched a movie neither of them were actually watching, to the point Killian had even ventured a kiss to her temple just so he could inhale the smell of her and feel the warmth of her skin against his lips.</p><p>His kiss was a promise, a silent affirmation of his protection and bond that no one, not even the memory of her attacker could break.</p><p>--</p><p>David watched as his partner and absolutely painfully rookie cop, Graham Humbert, precariously rocked back on the legs of his chair like some kind of seasoned veteran. Graham had the phone pressed to the side of his head, held there with his shoulder, and he was busy scribbling something nonsensical onto the pad in his hand like a detective from a movie. The more David looked at the new guy the more he realised that he was looking at the textbook definition of a cop stereotype, and if he had the mental energy to investigate what Graham had scrawled onto the pad, he would probably find that it was all written in cop shorthand.</p><p>The day had been quiet, too quiet for David to have to sit and wish his colleague would topple backwards, and far too much so that all he had to think about was the attack on Emma a few days ago. He’d called in a favour in the lab and put a rush on Emma’s rape kit, and even though he wasn’t entirely in control of the case, he had reached an agreement with Detective Blanchard after he’d all but been ejected from the hospital by the feisty special victims detective. Not that he blamed her. From a professional standpoint, he would have done the same, but from a personal perspective he was angry. How dare she just waltz in and tell <em>him </em>what’s going to happen with <em>his </em>sister’s case? Who did she think she was?</p><p>A smile crept across David’s lips at the thought, because despite her petite stature and proper demeanour, Mary Margaret Blanchard was a wild woman; he just knew it. She intrigued him with her cute, pixie hair cut that perfectly complimented the shape of her round, cherub-like face, and the way she could command a room with a simple, authoritative word. She was small but mighty, a bantam amongst both men and women alike, and David, for one, couldn’t wait to see her again. Thinking about her, wondering things about her, just wasn’t enough.</p><p>“Nolan!” Graham snapped, clapping his hands to emphasize his voice.</p><p>With a gruff snort, David frowned at the rookie who dared disturb his daydream. “What?”</p><p>“Sir,” Graham corrected himself quickly, almost shrinking in on himself.</p><p>David stared at him, half wondering if he had failed to notice if Graham’s chair had slipped out from under him. It annoyed him a little, knowing that one minute he was praying the man would and then the next Graham was suddenly in front of him, demanding his attention like a well trained seal. Graham must have noted his ire, because without any more prompting than a firm glare, he swallowed nervously and continued.</p><p>“The results came back,” Graham spluttered. He had a folder tucked under his arm, the brown manilla sleeve pressed to his rigid body, and David’s eyes flicked to it.</p><p>“Emma’s?” David asked eagerly, jumping to his feet and almost knocking his coffee cup off the edge of his desk in the process.</p><p>“Yeah,” Graham nodded, offering his partner the file.</p><p>“And?” David swiped the folder from Graham’s grasp and flipped it open, eyes scanning the humdrum data on the pages in front of him.</p><p>“No match in the database of active cases,” Graham said slowly and David physically deflated. “But,” the rookie continued and David’s head snapped up to meet his gaze. “We did get a familial match.”</p><p>“To what?” David frowned.</p><p>“To a cold case,” Graham added quickly, offering David another file.</p><p>“How?” David, yet again, irked by Graham flare for the dramatic.</p><p>“DNA of the victim matched the profile found-,” Graham began but David interrupted him.</p><p>“Who was the victim?” David snatched the second file from Graham’s grasp, making the younger man jump back a little with the aggression of it. He watched as David’s face turned white, his lips almost blue, before a red heat prickled up David’s neck and turned his cheeks crimson.</p><p>“Did you know him?” Graham asked, worried when David went silent.</p><p>“No,” David growled, his fingers scrunching the edge of the paper in his anger. He closed the case file, teeth ground together tightly as he slammed the folder onto his desk under a clenched fist and took a long steadying breath. “Son of a bitch!”</p><p>David was grabbing his coat and heading out of the office quicker than Graham had time to realise and it sent him scrambling for his own jacket draped over the back of his chair. His boots squeaked on the floor when he turned, watching David disappear through the swing doors and out into the parking lot. Graham paused at David’s desk, his fingers quickly opening the file to desperately try and work out what had Nolan so riled up. It looked like a standard old cold case file; few details, even fewer witnesses. But then one name jumped out at him that he did recognise, and he suddenly realised what had David Nolan so infuriated.</p><p>
  <em>Victim: Jones, Liam</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Next of Kin: Jones, Killian (Brother)</em>
</p><p>--</p><p>Emma nudged her face into Killian's arm, flattening her nose against the bulge of his bicep and groaning. They had been binging movies all day and every time it was Killian's turn to pick one, he had the annoying habit of insisting on watching every trailer first, even if it was a movie he had seen before. It was just one of his little quirks that made Emma smile, that was, until it didn't.</p><p>"Come on, Killian, just pick one already," Emma huffed. Out of boredom she began poking at his muscle, jabbing the taught skin in a steady rhythm, partly to gain his attention through annoyance, and partly to ease her own suffering.</p><p>"Shhh!" Killian hissed with a playful frown. "This can't be rushed." Eyes focused on the screen, he continued to scroll through the back catalogue of movies the streaming service had to offer, all the while aware of Emma's frustration boring into him.</p><p>"Yes, it can," Emma grunted, reaching for the remote. She lunged over his lap, almost elbowing him in the groin in an attempt to reach the clicker.</p><p>"Ahh ahh!" Killian laughed. He held his arm up so the remote was well out of Emma reach and leaned away from her grasping fingers.</p><p>"Come on, Killian," Emma whined, regretting her decision to expend so much energy on such a small endeavour. She fell back into the well softened couch cushion beside him with a small wince that instantly grabbed his attention. When he looked over to her with concern etched across his face, eyes scanning her for where the hurt had come from, Emma decided to use it to her advantage. "Please," she purred, lowering her head and looking up at him through her lashes with a coy smirk she just knew he couldn't resist.</p><p>It was just one word. A simple plea that had the hair on the back of Killian's neck standing to attention and his throat drying up at the way Emma had begun blinking at him like a little lost puppy. He'd seen that look before, when she needed him to do something for her, and as much as he enjoyed Emma from his dreams, salaciously biting her tongue between her teeth and cocking an eyebrow at him, he knew her game. He felt the familiar heat of a blush creep across his cheeks but it was soon interrupted by a smirk when Emma emphasized her flirting with a pout.</p><p>"Oh no," Killian chuckled, shaking his head. "I know what you're trying to do with that look."</p><p>"What look?" Emma asked innocently, grinning.</p><p>"<em>That</em> look," Killian accused with a smile.</p><p>"Well, if you picked a movie I wouldn't have to bring out the big guns." Emma smirked again.</p><p>"Well now I'm just going to take longer to choose," Killian said smugly.</p><p>"You're such an arse," Emma accused lightly, mocking his accent and giving him a playful slap to his bicep. Her hand lingered on his arm, watched intently by them both before they seemed to look up at the exact same time and their eyes met.</p><p>Emma inhaled hard. The way Killian was looking at her reminded her of the night they had shared together; the night he had yet to mention. Maybe he was being his typical chivalrous self and not mentioning it because of what had happened, but I hadn't escaped her notice that he had also been less touchy feely than he usually was. Killian was always touching her in some way, whether it was just a friendly pat on the shoulder or a reassuring hug, so after a spell of no touching, the effect he had on her when his fingers brushed over hers as he stared further into her eyes than she thought possible was almost orgasmic.</p><p>The longing in Killian's eyes was deafening, drowning out the sound of the trailer currently playing on the TV. Emma swallowed hard, a lump firmly lodged in her throat from the intensity of Killian's state, his slightly parted lips as pink and plump as they were during the night of passion they had shared just over a week ago. The memory was so fresh in her mind and she needed him again, yearned for his kiss, but she knew he wouldn’t instigate anything. Killian never would. He would wait for her for all eternity, even if she were to never reciprocate his feelings, grasping onto what little he could have whilst she was around and silently hoping for the rest.</p><p>Emma was done with waiting. She finally knew what it was like to have him, all of him, every satisfying inch of him deep inside her, coaxing out her heart and her soul with pleasure. She’d been blind for so long, neglectful even, too stubborn to follow her heart and too selfish to let Killian follow his. The feel of his slightly calloused hands massaging hers, promising with a delicate touch that he would never hurt her, sent a shiver of need straight to Emma's core, and she realised that everything that had happened to her was just the catalyst for change that would tear down the barrier around her heart and finally let someone in.</p><p>And that someone was Killian Jones.</p><p>She must have been staring, lost in her own thoughts and looking beyond the blue of his eyes, because Killian gave her hand a squeeze to rouse her.</p><p>"Emma, I-," Killian began with a voice changed by arousal, but his words were cut off when Emma interrupted him.</p><p>"Shut up," Emma rasped in a whisper, the ache in her body all but gone as she launched herself at Killian with a pent up hunger unsated.</p><p>He only just managed to catch her, tumbling backwards in surprise and hitting the couch arm so hard he felt a jolt of pain shoot up his back. It was ignored, Emma's quickly climbing onto his lap and straddling him, her knees digging awkwardly into the couch and her thighs gripping at his body so intensely Killian couldn't help the erection hardening as she ground herself down onto him. Her hands grasped at his neck, nails lightly scratching the hair there until lust prickled over his skin, her lips like dream fire when they finally collided with his and Emma let out a purr of exultant delight like she had been finally granted solace. For a split second he recalled something the doctor had said about odd behaviour Emma might exhibit in the wake of trauma, but it was but a fleeting thought when Emma’s fingernails clawed down his chest and his nipples hardened in response.</p><p>“Emma, wait,” he tried, pulling his mouth from hers, his body instantly regretting his decision. Killian fought his muscles to grab her arms and remove her hands from his neck, jaw clenching in frustration.</p><p>Emma chased his lips but he craned his neck out of the way of her advances, shaking his head through a cloud of lust. “What? Why?” Emma panted.</p><p>“We can’t...we shouldn’t…” Killian growled through clenched teeth. He couldn’t believe he had picked now, of all times, to be a gentleman.</p><p>“Why?” Emma looked confused, sitting back a little.</p><p>“Because,” Killian said in a husky voice, though it was truthfully the only word he could muster.</p><p>Emma licked her lips, searching his face for the answer she sought. She’d initiated their interaction. She’d wanted this. She wanted him. All she could think about was that night, how he had made her feel everything she had ever wanted, worshipping her like the Goddess he professed her to be over and over again, giving her orgasms like she had never known before or would most likely never feel again. It had been a mistake to leave him to think it was a dream and despite what had happened to her following that night of passion, spending the last eight days with Killian had shown her that she was exactly where she wanted to be for the rest of her life.</p><p>“Killian, I have something to tell you.” Emma’s face was serious, her heart hammering in her ears from the adrenaline thundering through her veins. He deserved to know, and if he hated her, that was fine, but she couldn’t go on another second without telling him how she felt and why. If her attack had given her one thing, it was the courage to live each day as it came and to stop letting Killian live in the fringes of her love, her new found bravery smashing down the barriers around her heart and letting him in. “Please just listen.”</p><p>“Alright,” Killian nodded slowly.</p><p>“We slept together. That night.” Emma gulped. “And I left that morning. I will regret that for the rest of my life,” Emma continued with a sigh. “If I could go back, I would stay, and none of what happened afterward would have ever happened at all, but do I regret that night? What happened between us? No,” Emma said firmly, cupping his head in her hands. “I regret I was too chicken to seduce you sober, but do I want this now? Yes.” A glimmer of a smile lit up Killian’s face and one hand covered hers on his cheek. “Am I broken? No.” Her eyes darted between his and his lips, eager to taste them again and his grip on her finger tightened in encouragement. “You’re my best friend, Killian, and that might be fine for you, but I want more. I want lazy Sunday mornings and breakfast in bed. I want to share all the good times and the bad, showers and laughter, and fucking, old family recipes, if you have them. I just-.” Emma paused, exasperated. “I just want you, Killian Jones. All of me wants all of you.”</p><p>The more she spoke, the more in love with her Killian became. It wasn’t like Emma to spill her guts in such a heartfelt way. She never had done so because of her past, preferring to keep the world at arms length and behind the walls she had built around her heart. She’d told him once that they were like a barricade, a protection of sorts, to keep her from getting hurt, and Killian had no doubt that was why she had kept in her feelings for so long. Even as her oldest friend, she had kept him just outside of her inner circle, close enough but not risking the heartache of losing someone so close. Now she was laying it all out, like she had nothing left to lose, and Killian couldn’t wait to let her know his feelings were more mutual than she would ever know.</p><p>He surged forward, closing the gap between them and seizing her mouth for a hungry kiss that said everything. Killian always had been better with actions than he was with words but had never had this opportunity to show her before. Emma pushed back as ardently as she could, a prickle of heat trickling down her spine and straight to the tension between her thighs. Killian opened his mouth wider, his tongue darting out to tease as the seam of her lips, begging for entry, begging to taste her kiss and eat up her moans. Emma complied, tilting her head and clutching the sides of his face, whimpering when their tongues met and duelled, dancing in each other's mouth whilst a fire burned inside of both of them, threatening to engulf them at any second.</p><p>Killian's hands found her thighs and he slid them up towards her hips where his fingertips danced at the edge of the waistband to her sleepwear. He hadn't noticed before, but Emma had the most perfect shaped hips, just enough curve poking over the top of the elastic to entice his touch beneath, a simple move that earned him another agonizing whimper of pleasure he had only heard in his dreams, hardening his cock once more. Emma shifted her weight and her legs opened wider, the apex of her thighs seating itself along the ridge of his cock, Killian's hands slipping into her underwear and pawing at the flesh of her behind in response.</p><p>The world seemed to slow exponentially with every sigh that emanated from her lips, the sheer need of Emma's actions ramping up both of their arousals. She liked his hands where they were, lazily teasing between her cheeks with the promise of slipping to where her underwear had become sodden, her core clenching with need when Killian pulled her against his painfully restricted erection and her clit bumped the ridge of his jeans. Emma gasped, their lips parting for a second as she inhaled hard, but their faces remained so close that when her eyes fluttered open in a haze, she could just make out the blur of a smirk on Killian’s face.</p><p>“Are you sure, Emma? I won't hurt you?” Killian whispered. He reluctantly pulled one hand from Emma’s pants and stroked her cheek with his knuckle, quickly flipping his hand to tuck some stray strands of hair behind Emma’s ear.</p><p>Her only reply was a shake of her head, her forehead touching his and the tips of their noses brushing together. She knew what he was referencing and her lip quivered slightly at the memory, still so fresh in her mind, still so raw. It seemed her body was stuck in between fight or flight, pleasure or pain and she hated the fact that another man could have made her so hesitant with Killian.</p><p>“Love,” he sighed and it was the only word Emma needed to hear. It held all the reassurance but also questions he was dying to ask; the questions that were overloading him with emotions he never thought he would ever have to deal with.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Emma whimpered, her nose nuzzling into his.</p><p>Killian frowned. “Why are you sorry?”</p><p>“I could have told you,” Emma admitted with a shrug.</p><p>“You’ve had other things on your mind, darling.” Killian couldn’t help the way his fingers grazed over the now green bruises under her eye or the feeling of hatred that boiled inside him for whoever hurt her when they did.</p><p>“I <em>should </em>have told you then,” Emma insisted. “You deserved to know.”</p><p>“I know now,” Killian offered lightly, his lips tugging into a wry grin. “Which reminds me,” he began, easily lifting her as he sat back up and deposited her on the couch with a mutter of displeasure.</p><p>When he pushed himself to his feet and disappeared into his bedroom, Emma was confused, suddenly feeling lost on the couch without the warmth of him at her side, but her face lit up when he returned pretty quickly. He was wearing that smirk of his again and had his hands behind his back, the cheeky grin accompanied by a quirk of his eyebrow. Emma couldn’t hold in her excitement or intrigue, her smile widening from ear to ear as he approached with the sultry stare of a predator. Her face must have given away her pending questions, because Killian sucked in a breath before reading her mind and answering her question.</p><p>“I found these,” Killian began, revealing what had been behind his back. A pair of panties dangled from his fingertip and Emma recognized them immediately as the pair she had failed to find whilst fumbling around in the dark that morning.</p><p>“Oh,” Emma blushed.</p><p>“Are you maybe missing a pair of knickers, love?” Killian swaggered forward cockily, dropping to his knees in front of her.</p><p>“Maybe,” Emma admitted, a coy smile spreading across her lips. Unable to take the space between them any more, she scooted to the edge of the couch and reached out and pushed her fingers through his hair. “Or maybe some other fair maiden is missing her undergarments?”</p><p>Killian shook his head, enjoying the way her nails scratched at his scalp. “No, I don’t sleep around,” he said defiantly. “But I don’t remember ever seeing these in your apartment.”</p><p>“That’s because I bought them for you,” Emma admitted with a smirk. “For the no pants party.” Her hands found his face and she traced the corner of his mouth with her thumb, yearning for his lips on hers once more.</p><p>“Mmm,” Killian hummed in appreciation, dropping the underwear to the floor in favour of having his hands on her body, closing the gap between them and gently parting Emma’s knees so she could accommodate his bulk between them. “Do you think,” he began, watching the way her legs shook as he traced the inside of her thighs with his thumbs, inching closer to where her body was screaming out for him. “Do you think we could have another no pants party right now?”</p><p>Emma sucked in a breath when his hands reached the apex of her thighs and he gently brushed his fingertip over the material there, her clit pulsating just below. Her heart took off, hammering in her chest, all of the last coherent thoughts she might have that day leaving her in an instant, but she didn’t have time to reply before a loud banging coming from Killian’s apartment door sent her shrinking into a panic.</p><p>
  <em>BANG! BANG! BANG!</em>
</p><p>The pounding continued and Killian jumped to his feet, grabbing Emma by the hand and yanking her to her feet, pulling her into a tight embrace in the middle of his apartment. “It’s okay,” he soothed, trying to ignore the way she was clutching at his shirt with a shaking hand. “It’s just the door.”</p><p>“Who is it?” Emma squeaked in a voice she didn’t even recognise as her own. It was small and foreign to her ears, and even though she knew it was a silly question, she couldn’t help but ask it.</p><p>“I’ll check,” Killian suggested but Emma held onto his shirt even tighter.</p><p>“Don’t leave me,” she begged, her cheeks pinking with a blush.</p><p>“It’s alright, I’m right here,” Killian assured softly, wrapping his arms even more tightly around her. His hands gently rubbed up and down her back until he was sure her panic had passed, knowing it was just a small blip in her recovery and finding the triggers would be something they would have to work out together. “I’ll be right back, alright?” The persistent knocking continued and Killian was growing more furious by the second. Whoever was on the other side was causing Emma a severe amount of distress, making her feel unsafe, and he wouldn't have it. Finally, Emma let her grip of Killian loosen and he slipped from her grasp, planting a small kiss on her forehead before heading towards the door.</p><p>
  <em>BANG! BANG! BANG!</em>
</p><p>“Alright!” Killian yelled at the door as he approached, grabbing the handle and yanking it open. “David?” Killian said, confused as to why Emma’s brother was currently trying to bash his door down.</p><p>Without a word, David barged into the apartment, grabbed Killian by the wrist and twisted his hand behind his back, slamming him into the wall beside the door. Killian let out a grunt of pain as his shoulder hit the surface first and caused him to wince.</p><p>“What the bloody hell, mate?!” Killian mumbled into the wall, David’s hand on the back of his head stopping him from turning around. At the sound of the commotion and her brother’s name, Emma peaked around into the entrance hall with a frown.</p><p>“David, what’s going on?” She demanded at the sight before her, but both David and his rookie side piece ignored the fact she was even there.</p><p>“Killian Jones, you are under arrest for the sexual assault of Emma Nolan,” David growled angrily.</p><p>“What?!” Killian screeched, immediately trying to pull his arm free, but it just gave David a reason to exact his rage.</p><p>David pulled back one arm and then lunged forward, his elbow connecting with Killian’s nose that instantly began gushing with blood. “Got you, you son of a bitch,” David spat, twisting Killian’s arm a little more brutally, lifting him from the surface of the wall and then slamming his whole weight against it, squashing Killian against the wall again. “You see that?” David addressed the rookie cop beside him, who looked like he didn’t know what to actually do other than nod dumbly. “Resisting arrest.”</p><p>“David, what the fuck is going on?” Emma cried, her panic stricken tears streaming down her face. “Stop it! Killian didn’t do anything!”</p><p>David only looked at his sister briefly before turning back to Killian. “Killian Jones, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.” David reached behind himself and grabbed the cuffs off his belt, making sure they were around Killian’s wrists much tighter than regulation permitted. “You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand the rights I have just read to you?”</p><p>“You’re making a big mistake, Dave, and you know it,” Killian hissed.</p><p>“With these rights in mind, do you wish to speak to me?” David yelled, making sure his voice was heard above Killian’s empty threat.</p><p>“Go fuck yourself, mate,” Killian grunted.</p><p>“That’s a no,” David huffed. He yanked Killian off the wall and threw the bound man towards Graham, giving his partner a stern look as he fumbled with wriggling Killian like he was handling a slippery bar of soap. “Put him in the car. Get him out of my sight.”</p><p>“Emma, call Bell!” Killian yelled behind him as Graham led him through the doorway.</p><p>“Don’t you talk to her!” David roared, shoving Killian even harder out the doorway. When the sounds of Killian’s detest had faded away, David turned to his sister, trembling at the end of the entrance, clutching to the wall in an attempt to ground herself to the twisted reality she was currently living in. He took a step towards her, but Emma flinched away.</p><p>“Get away from me,” Emma hissed, cowering from her brother. “Get out!”</p><p>“Come on, Emma, don’t be like that,” David implored. “I’m just doing my job. I followed the evidence.”</p><p>“You’re evidence is wrong,” Emma insisted with a quaking voice.</p><p>“Evidence can’t be wrong, Emma, you know that.” David took another tentative step towards his sister, who halted him, pointing to the door behind him with a shaking finger.</p><p>“Get. Out,” Emma spat. “OUT!” She rushed down the hall, pushing her brother’s bulk with all her might until David was over the threshold and she could slam the door in his face. Emma locked the door, fumbling with the chain lock, securing it in place, before sinking to the floor in a fit of tears, her whole world seeming to crash down around her and the support of Killian, the one person she knew would never hurt her, now gone, and for how long she wouldn’t know.</p>
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